


A (Not So) Simple Conclusion

by Golden_Au, TKWolf45



Series: Simple series [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Healing, Implied Sexual Content, Mpreg, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Part 3, Polyamory, a pinch of whump, do not copy to another site, implied sex, implied/references rape/non-con, lots of hurt/comfort, mostly comfort from the previous hurt, slow-burn happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 51
Words: 141,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23705521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Au/pseuds/Golden_Au, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKWolf45/pseuds/TKWolf45
Summary: Part three of the Simple Series! There's definitely much more good this time around. Lol. Probably.(Book 2 is here. For a bit of deserved fluff,part 2.5 is here.)
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Simple series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532417
Comments: 1604
Kudos: 388





	1. Welcome Home (Truly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which yes! The husbands are back!!

_"Welcome Home."_

Unable to help himself, Error released a hysterical laugh that grew louder with every passing second. _Welcome home... welcome home..._ The words continued to echo in his head, even as his cackling brought tears to his eyes and a trembling to his legs. _Welcome home... welcome home... welcome home..._

Wheezing, he collapsed on the ground when his legs gave out. Rather, he _should_ have collapsed, what with the way that Ink was preoccupied with holding onto the youngest of the twins. 

Instead, he was caught in a gentle hold; surprisingly strong arms keeping him from crumpling under the weight of his own overwhelming relief. 

"I gotchu," someone murmured, close to the side of his skull. "I... I gotchu, E-" A voice cracked. "-Error. _Stars,_ I got you."

With a broken laugh that left him as a sob, Error dropped the box in his hold and clung tightly to the person holding him, trembling hard as he buried his face in the other's chest.

"Spry..." was all he managed, what he intended to be a shout leaving him as a cracking whisper. "F...fuck... Spry... _Spright!"_ he shouted, sobbing. 

Arms tightened around him, bringing him comfort where another's hold may have burned due to his spiraling state. "H-hey, bro. I..." Tears dripped onto Error's skull. "...Fuck, Error, I missed you. _I missed you so fucking much...!"_

"L... la..."

Spright laughed wetly, concealed eyes full of tears that made his cheeks gleam in the light as he pulled away. Not far, but just enough to run his gaze over his oldest brother's face. "Language. I k-know, brah, but..." Try as he might, the colorful skeleton couldn't keep his smile. "...I don't care. Not... n-not right now..." not when his mind rapidly jumped between joy and the fear that this was all a mere dream, making thinking far too difficult in the face of possible heartache. "I _fucking_ missed you, E. And... and-"

The text across Spright's glasses went dark when he turned to Geno with warmth in his chest that turned cold at the sight of his other brother's face.

_The scars-!_

"P...Papa..." Paperjam whispered, breaking the building tension with a quiet voice that made it across the distance like a shout. "Ma... mama..." 

_Paperjam._

Smiling slightly, Spright slowly released Error from his hold and stepped aside. "Heh, some... someone missed you a little more than m-me, I think..." he murmured.

"...Jammy..." Ink whispered, hold around his now-youngest shaking yet never loosening. "Jam-"

"Papa! Mama!"

With that, little feet pounded across the floor as Paperjam shrieked in tearful joy, running towards them with all their might and arms outstretched in desperation of their hold. "Mama! Papa! You... you...!"

Throat tight, Error lunged forward and caught the small skeleton when Paperjam all but threw themself their way.

"You came back!" Paperjam shouted, tears spilling down their cheeks with no end in sight. "You came back for me! Y-you... you..." 

Unable to form anymore words, the child merely clung to their father and wailed.

Similarly, the younger of the two children came bolting across the grass, tiny wings desperately trying to take him airborne to get him to his parents faster. The call of 'mama' and 'papa' sounded much more like the shrill shriek of an injured bird. He flung himself at Geno, sobbing harder when his mother returned the embrace and broke down into tears. Nothing coherent came from mother nor child, though that did little to stop Reaper from tearing up and crooning, "Gothy....! My little hatchling....!!" 

Ink desired quite a few things in that moment. So many different things, in fact, that it made him dizzy. 

Catch up with Dream, break down and have a fit, snatch the other twin from Cross, burn something- honestly, Ink kind of wanted to do everything. 

But seeing his family whole again... 

_I just want to fucking sleep..._

Respite made his way over, murmuring, "Welcome back everyone...." He gave Reaper a tight hug, reluctantly pulling away to lift the box that fell from Error's grasp. "Let's... go inside?" 

_Home..._

The couple steps to the front door were quiet, and walking through was.... odd. This is home. They all knew that. And yet... well, if it weren't for the new marks done up by the kids, and the general untidiness, the husbands would've thought they never left. 

Mostly. 

Geno found himself staring out at the windows. At the _light._ And letting silent tears fall as his mind tried to calculate just how long he'd gone without so much light. 

Uncertainly, Sci hovered by Cross, watching as the reunited family slowly settled in with each other.

"Your hold is slipping," the scientist muttered under his breath, watching Cross from the corner of his socket. "Newborns are fragile, but you shouldn't be afraid to hold them. In anything, you should be afraid of _failing_ to hold them, and them dropping to the floor. From this height, serious damage and even death could occur-"

"You're not helping, scientist." Cross' voice was flat, yet anxiety filled him as he worked on adjusting his hold, arms returning to the placement Error showed him. _Support the head, my other arm here..._ "Next time, just tell me what I'm doing wrong."

"Sorry." Sci didn't sound very apologetic though. "Uttering facts calms me, and I'll admit that I'm... possibly a little shaken after my encounter with your boss. Negativity is quite the imposing figure up close."

Dual eyelights snapped in Sci's direction, sharp. "How do you know that name?"

"Dream," Sci replied smoothly, smiling. "It's... rather unbelievable, isn't it? Legends, in the... well, I'd say flesh, but I believe the error in that statement is quite clear. Your hold is slipping again, by the way. Weren't you an older brother?"

"...That was a long time ago..." Cross murmured, working on fixing his hold yet again.

"Um, excuse me? If you are struggling, may I perhaps take the youngling from you?" When eyes turned his way, Respite smiled. The kindness wasn't enough to hide the distrust in his gentle gaze. "I... would very much enjoy holding my... nephew, it seems."

"...Y-yeah, go ahead." Even as he said that, something in Cross shouted out in protest as he carefully passed the little skeleton over. He was horrible at holding him, but... _I... I don't want to let him go..._

The little guy was so _small,_ and sickly to boot. He was tiny in his own hold, yet akin to a doll in the taller skeleton's grasp. 

"...Oh... his expression is so sweet..." Respite whispered, sockets burning as tears filled his eyes. "He's rather adorable. Hello, young..."

"...Marigold," Cross supplied.

A glance to Geno had him confirming the name for Respite. "Marigold.... what a nice name." 

Goth and Paperjam refused to leave their parents' sides, as if letting them go would be to lose them forever. Tears shone in both children's eyes, and they stared almost uncomprehendingly at the fresh newborns, but even the curiosity they held was no match for the fear of waking up from this cruel dream. 

Ink settled himself down by Error, the hold on his daughter, Merciful, as firm yet gentle as before. She had begun to squirm and fuss when the other kids raced over, but soon she was dozing in Ink's grasp. For the moment.

"My babies..." Geno whispered, voice strained from the pain of labor and exhausted from the very same event. "My... my little Gothy... Jammy..." his gaze flickered between Respite and Ink, reassuring himself that the twins were both there, alive and well. As he did so, he smoothed a hand over Goth's head, Reaper's fingers combing through the little skeleton's feathered wings. "...My babies..."

"Mommy... mommy...." Goth whined, face buried in his mother's shirt as he continued crying his relief. "...Daddy..."

"Shhh," Reaper hushed, kissing Geno's skull as he straightened a few messy feathers on Goth's wings. "It's okay, hatchling. Mommy and daddy are here. Mommy and daddy are here, and we aren't leaving ever, ever again, okay?"

"...P... promise...?"

Reaper swallowed down the bitterness of a vow he wasn't sure he could keep, murmuring, "I promise," with a gentle smile. 

Goth pulled his face from his mother's damp shirt and offered a shaky smile in return, looking so much like their precious little boy and yet different. A little taller, wings a little more grown... _How did he grow up so much in only a few months?_

"Papa and mama will stay too...?" Paperjam questioned, snuggled close to Error with his curious, tearful gaze on the little bundle in his mother's arms. "You... you came back, so you'll stay now? Even- even though you have new babies?"

_Even though you don't need us anymore?_

Ink's heart clenched, but Error beat him to a response with a firm, "You're our baby too, Jam. Of course we're going to stay with you."

Not one to be left out, Ink smiled tearfully and leaned down to press a kiss to his son's head. "We love you, honey. Stars, we... we love you so much; missed you so much."

"Lots-"

"Mama!" Goth shrieked, wings flaring out when Geno's hand went still on his head as the glitch slumped back against Reaper. "Mama! _MAMA!"_

Woken by the sudden noise, Merciful began to wail.

———

Slow, squelching footsteps echoed throughout the empty hallway as he made his way to the ruse that was the nursery. Upon entering, emerald eyes glimmered; amused.

 _I suppose I ought to return this crib._ Then again... 

"Maybe I should keep it?" he mused, making his way to the door along the far wall. "After all, he has no use for it..." 

The door open to reveal a staircase that descended into pure darkness.

"…and _I_ may be needing it soon."


	2. Protectors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a lackluster reunion is had and some admissions are made.

Getting everyone settled that night took time. The kids clung to their parents, reluctant to let go in case any of them disappeared. While it was appreciated, it made things difficult as the group shuffled into the house; Reaper struggling between Geno and Goth and the group of freed, forced nightmares wary as they stepped through the front door, all wondering, _Is this real? Are we really free, or is this a trap?_

The moment Geno woke up, Sci was more or less in his face about getting food within him for his children. Cross stayed back with Dream and watched the rest of the family get comfortable.

Error had said Cross was part of the family now and dragged him through but... it didn't feel... he frowned. _It felt like Negativity was going to swoop in and ruin all of this._ Like... the moment everyone is truly comfortable, or as comfortable as they can get, then he'll pop in and ruin everything again.

Dream, on the other hand, couldn't help but stare at the newborns with complicated emotions brewing within him.

The golden eyed skeleton's focus on the children didn't go unnoticed, unfortunately. Geno, already worn from a long labor and discomforted by the tainted familiarity of their home, went tense very time Dream's too-bright gaze landed on the twins. Tired as he was, he could only manage to hold one at a time, but that didn't stop him from angling towards Reaper, shifting to be closer to the little girl in his arms while he himself held tiny, fragile Marigold closer.

Taking note of Geno's stiff posture, the guardian smiled slightly and glanced away to avoid causing any more trouble for the glitch. He needs rest... but that wouldn't happen until Geno felt well and truly safe, or passed out once again.

"Mommy?" Goth called, snuggled into his father's other side. Unknowingly, the little guy broke the tension in the room with his sweet, innocent voice. It had been so, so long since most of them heard a child's call. One of their children. "Are they gonna sleep all the time? I wanna see their eyes! Are they like mine? Or yours? Or daddy's, or-"

"Mine?" Paperjam interrupted curiously, squirming in Error's hold in an attempt to get a look at the twins. "How come that one sounds funny?" he questioned, pointing at baby Merciful, the only girl to join their family as of yet.

Reaper murmured gently, "She has some problems breathing, hon. She'll be okay. And Goth..." a smile graced the god's face. "Soon you'll wish they slept all the time."

Not that any of them knew for sure how these two were going to do.

"Excuse me," Dream murmured, leaving quickly. For some reason, watching them hurt his chest. Worse than he had been expecting. As he traveled downstairs, he expected solitude, or silence, or nothing. Instead, he nearly ran into Ink, who was quite literally running up the stairs.

"O-oh! Pos-, _Dream_ how's-" Ink;s gaze shifted between him and the children and husbands upstairs. "U-um..."

"Actually.... Ink. I need to talk to you."

It was brief, but Ink's expression flickered. "...Do you need to talk to _me,_ or..." Symbols faded, sockets full of the darkest black before a multitude of colored shapes filled the void. "...me?"

Gold expanded, rounded eyelights shifting into stars that erupted to fill his own sockets with pure golden light. "Is there a difference, Cree?" Dream murmured, knowing that the other skeleton looked to him and saw only Positivity in his golden eyes. And yet, that wasn't the case. Many pieces of himself had yet to be found, but he knew that they would come together to form... _who_ they would form:

Simply just... himself.

 _Dream, Positivity... the only thing that separates them is time,_ but was the same true for Ink? For _Cree?_ He never seemed to work the same way as others. "I need to talk to you, whoever you are... or whoever you choose to be. Just... please, meet me outside if you can."

Sighing, the elder Primordial murmured, "Now's probably the best time."

Somehow, Dream doubted that, but couldn't find a reason yet to deny it. "Very well..." with a lingering glance to him, Dream turned and made his way outside. The backyard, since the change of scenery managed to keep Ink calmer than the one in the front yard, yet...

Once Dream glanced over to Ink, all he saw was the elder primordial gazing up at the sun with squinted sockets though an otherwise placid expression. "What is it you wished to speak with me about...?"

"How are you holding up?"

"....holding up...?" Ink echoed, eyes dragging from his view upwards to meet with Dream's. "How are _you_... ‘holding up’?"

Dream frowned, displeased with what felt so much like avoidance. "Forgive me for being crude, but... _are you fucking kidding me, Ink?_ I am not the one that's been captured for... for months! And by Negativity no less! I'm not-"

A gentle touch stopped his tirade, Ink's palm warm as it pressed against against his cheek, cupping his face with such loving tenderness it made something within Dream weep. "...Posi." The eldest of the two whispered, leaning down to press their foreheads together. _"Dream."_

Starlight fell from golden sockets.

"...I'm so tired of being left behind..." like honey, Dream's voice was soft and sweet, yet thick with sorrow. "I'm so, so tired of it, Cree. _Ink._ Watching as those I love walk away, left to worry with-" he paused, finding the rest of his words lost to uncertainty. "How many times is he going to take you away from me? _All_ of you, now that the others have planted seeds of affection within my soul? I..."

_"P-please...! Please, Cree, stay- I- Cree, I'm-!"_

"-never going to leave you again," Ink murmured, a promise in his eyes. "I... never again, hon. I swear it."

"You _can't_ swear it..." Dream met that gaze with a frown of his own. "You can't... you can't look me in the eyes and swear something like this to me. You...."

"Yeah..." Ink stepped closer, peering down at him. "I _can_ swear it."

"I'm saying that you can't _keep_ that swear, Ink. The moment Negativity beckons, you're going to be right there to do whatever's necessary to protect us."

"What do you want me to do, Pos? Stand back and let him hurt-"

"I want you to _stay!_ Please...! Stay with us and protect us _here!"_

Ink clenched his fists together. "Dream. He's still got half of Geno's SOUL-"

"Then we deal with it when he makes it a problem. Right now?" Dream took Ink's face into his hands, narrowing his eyes. "Leave the protecting to me."

"Dream-"

The golden one grit his teeth and squished Ink's face slightly. "No. Trust me, dammit. You're here now. _Home_ now. So fucking trust me to try and protect you all. Okay?"

Ink hesitated, and for just a few moments too long.

"...You don't trust me to protect you..." Dream realized, hands dropping from Ink's face to press against his aching chest. "You don't-" At once, fury hid away all of his hurt. "I am not poor, little, naive Posi, Ink! Not... not anymore. I grew up. _I know war!_ You- don't disregard who I am now because you remember the parts of me that are young and foolish!"

"Dream..."

"No!" Stepping away, Dream wrapped his arms around himself and tried to stand tall. "I understand now just how sheltered you kept me, and that your decision to train me came far, far too late. And I _know_ that you left me all those years ago to protect me, _because you knew I wouldn't be able to do so myself._ Not when I still looked to Negativity and saw the man I called brother. But that _changed!_ Don't you understand that? I know the truth of the danger we're in now, Ink. _Cree._ I know that, when it comes to him, mercy isn't an option, so... so fucking _trust me!_ Trust me like you trusted Dream to lead the Stars, _because we're one in the same,_ and I don't deserve to have all my accomplishments tossed aside just because I fucking sparkle again."

"...You still sparkled as Dream..." Ink murmured, trying for a joke.

Glimmering tears didn't take away from the anger in Dream's gaze. "Ink."

Guilty, the elder primordial looked away. "I know that you've changed, Posi. _I do,_ and I respect that as well. I know you're perfectly capable of protecting us from other threats, but... but this is _Negativity,_ and..." Closing his eyes, the artist grit his teeth as in pain as he admitted, "I'm scared, Dream. I'm so fucking scared of the thought of anyone facing him, even if that 'anyone' is you or _me."_

"We're going to have to." The words slipped out before Dream had a chance to stop them, but once they were spoken, he found that he meant them. "We're going to have to face him again. It might not be now? Or next week? Or in 10 years? But eventually, we're going to have to face him again." Softer, he added, "And put an end to him."

———

Failure. The first one and likely the first of many. He grit his teeth down at the results, narrowing his sockets. There were no stories of if he succeeded on his first try or if he failed. Of course, why would he tell if he failed ever?

"It would just ruin your image, wouldn't it?"

Though what little amusement that brought him wasn't enough to smother the anger at his failure. _This will happen. One way..._

_Or another._


	3. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno is trying his best, but that's not always enough.

Uncertainty was not a friend to Geno, but an unfortunately familiar companion.

Even before the castle, before _him_ , this was the case. Oh, he could always count on the resets and the end of all that he loved, but never anything more than that.

_Will they kill me today, or stop and begin again after Papyrus loses his head?_

_Who are they going to start with this time? The guards? Undyne? My brother?_

_How long will it take them to come out of the ruins...?_

Uncertainty was as familiar to him as the taste of his own blood, and yet it definitely wasn't a concept he enjoyed. No one liked being left out of the know, and Geno, even as Just Sans, was never an exception. But now? Now, he despised that sense of uncertainty even more than he had before.

_Is that just a shadow, or something, **someone** , more?_

_Is Goth a little taller now, or did I just forget the way my own son looked?_

_Was Ink still Ink, or was he married to a strang-_

"Ge?"

He pretended the flinch was from being startled and not from being caught, especially when his eyes landed upon Ink's symbols. Ink's _concerned_ symbols. "Gen...?" He murmured again. "Are you doing okay?"

 _....how does one respond to this...?_ Geno wondered, especially after _everything-_ Quickly, he tried to shake away the terror-filled memories of him learning and crying out Cree's name. Though the urge was there, bubbling up inside him as a defense against potentially being hurt by this unknown.

But... he's still Ink.... right....?

Gods, it was so hard to tell for Geno, so he stayed quiet, dropping his gaze to their son, Marigold. "I'm fine..."

Symbols so similar to Ink's own flickered as the youngling skeleton blinked up at him, earning a small smile from the glitch. Stubbornness and perhaps a hint of determination was all that kept that smile in place when Ink neared, slow, almost cautious, steps bringing the artist to Geno's side.

Feral, mothering instincts howled for him to slap the hand reaching for Marigold away, but he resisted. Barely. Instead, he merely watched cautiously as Ink gently brushed his fingertips over the little one's cheek, the empath stilling his searching touch when tiny Marigold turned and attempted to suckle nourishment from his father's fingers.

"Is he hungry...?" Ink murmured, searching their little flower yet finding no sign of hunger or upset. "He... doesn't seem like it..."

"...It's a reflex," Geno responded in his own quiet tone. He didn't want to startle Marigold into crying when his youngest son seemed so at ease, nor did he want to wake little Merciful up from where she slept in the crib tucked into the corner of their room. "He feels you touching his cheek, so he turns towards the feeling expecting it to be food." Hesitantly, and more than just a bit wary, he added, "...Didn't Paperjam do the same when he was this young...?"

Ink's expression said it all: He didn't remember.

_Is it because of his old poor memory, or because this really isn’t-_

"It's me, Ge," the empath murmured, eyeing his husband's increasing terror from the corner of his socket. "I just... even without my... situation, some things were always still blurry. My memory wasn't the best, and I... I missed out on a lot at first, with Error. And he was so protective of Jammy..." Gaze distant, he gently traced a little heart on Marigold's cheek. "...I never really understood why he held onto Paperjam like he was afraid to lose him..."

 _Like how you hold onto the twins,_ went unsaid.

But not unheard. Of course, Geno didn't bother responding. Ink had a better understanding now just why they had done it. Though a small part of Geno felt... bad? Guilty? _These were Ink's children too._ Was Geno really going to deny Ink the blessing of being there for them at this young, delicate age, simply because he was scared of the other?

Unfortunately for Ink, Geno's focus was on the children and their safety. And if that meant being a little too aware, and getting the other to leave when he became too uncomfortable, then that's what Geno was going to do. _I'm not gonna let him take you..._ he vowed silently to his children.

He tried to not think about if he'd even have a choice in the matter, should it come down to it...

"They're just... so small..."

The glitch glanced up to Ink's face, reading through the clear worry and uncertainty within. _I'm sorry._

"Don't be, Gen."

 _...did I say that out loud...?_ He glanced away, snuggling Marigold that much closer, unintentionally pulling him away from his father's touch.

When the little thing whined, it came out as an odd sound: A mixture between a squeak and cough that would have brought tears to Geno eye had he any left. _My poor babies... I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry..._

"...It's not your fault they're like this Gen," Ink whispered, hesitating before taking a seat next to him on the bed. When the glitch glanced at him, he raised his hand. A question. _May I...?_

Hesitantly, Geno nodded, assuming that Ink wanted to reach for Marigold again and finding himself startled when the empath instead settled his palm on his own cheek instead. "You didn't have much say over what went on, Ge. Not in regards to the children, or..." _your own body._

Yet again, everything left unspoken reached Geno's nonexistent ears. Wary after finding himself on the poorer end of a cruel joke one too many times, he leaned into the touch. _This is Ink... this is Ink... thisisInkthisisInkthisisInk-_ "...I had _weeks_ to get myself in better shape for them."

"And you did, Ge. You tried, at least, but we both know there's only so much proper rest and a greater intake of food can do. They... they were under a lot of stress. _You_ were under that same stress, Ge, and.... _just look."_ Gently, Ink angled the glitch's head down, so that they were both gazing at their littlest son. "The twins may be small, and... and they're going to have their struggles, but they're _alive,_ Gen. You kept them alive through everything that happened."

"....we survived," Geno admitted. "We all... we're alive..."

"And now we have to relearn how to live. You know?"

 _To... live...?_ "There's.... not a difference," Geno murmured, though some part of him knew the words rang as false.

Memories of his time in the dark save screen. Him surviving just to secretly die inside at every new reset. Meeting Error and Reaper. Leaving the save screen and starting to live. To experience new things and actually enjoy life more than simply surviving. All of that was ripped away in the castle but now...

It hurt to think about. The possibility of learning to live again. What if it gets taken away _again..._ What if it's a multiverse-jumping human, or Negativity? What if-

"Gen, hon, you're starting to spiral," Ink murmured, gently rubbing his cheek. "Please... please come back...?"

Shuddering, Geno clutched Marigold closer and choked out a desperate, "I don't know where I'm coming back _to,"_ in a moment of pure honesty that he would have otherwise avoided, had he been in the right mindset to do so.

"Geno...?"

"I've spent the last few weeks with you all in this room," but it wasn't _this_ room at all.

Oh, the structures had all been the same, but none of the children's drawings were taped to the closet doors, and there was never the clutter of familiar, beloved clothing thrown around. Reaper's dark robes never ended up draped over the nearest surface in the room due to the god's laziness when it came to using the laundry hamper. Geno's own white sweaters weren't crumpled into a ball and pushed under the bed. There was no hint of Goth, or PJ, or even any of the clothing he swiped from Spright just to hide it so his eyes could have a break...

There was no personality in the mockery of a home they were forced to live in, yet the fear lingered. _What if it's a better illusion? What if I pull myself out of my thoughts just to find myself back there?_

_What... **what if it wasn't Ink touching him right now, or even Cree...?**_

Breathing heavily, the glitch curled forward over Mar, magic flaring and bringing him to stand on unsteady legs before the crib that Merciful was stirring in, a small, wheezing whine of distress leaving the young skeleton as she squirmed awake from her nap.

Ink startled slightly at his husband not being there, turning to find him by the crib with both children in his arms. His SOUL clenched when he realized it, _I'm not going to be able to help you with this.... I'm just hurting you._

"Okay, Geno..." he murmured. Each of his movements were slow, to give Geno the time to react, though the other seemed to view it as more of a threat. _Any moment... any moment and tendrils are going to whip out and snatch Mar or Merci away. Or wrap around his neck. Or-_

Confusion clouded Geno's mind when he watched Ink walk out the door, leaving it just slightly cracked. Several minutes passed, maybe ten, when Reaper found his way into the room, followed by an exhausted Error. Goth and PJ clung to the both of them, though the second stared out the room with no small amount of confusion and stress.

"Gen?" Reaper crooned, bring the glitch's gaze away from the oldest child and to the god. He was smiling before Geno looked to him, albeit worriedly, and the small expression grew brighter once he had his first husband's attention. "Gen, do you want to come sit back down...? Maybe switch Mari out for Merci? She sounds like she needs her Mama right now, and Mari is looking a little sleepy, don't you think?"

Mari...? Merci...?

Geno smiled hesitantly. _Cute... he... he's already given them nicknames..._ "I..."

"Come on, Glitchface," Error encouraged, giving a Paperjam a little bounce when they began to slip down his hip. "You're tired too. You shouldn't be standing when you look so weak on your feet."

_"Weak."_

"I'm... I'm not weak." Stubbornness set Geno's jaw firmly in place, and he refused to move. "I'm not weak."

"No, you're not, but you..." Reaper hesitated, murmuring, "You deserve some rest, don't you think?"

Geno met his gaze again. It almost felt like a defeat- _a draw_ , but he nodded, gently tucking Marigold into the crib and pulling Merciful out instead, soothingly murmuring her name and rubbing her back as he walked back to the bed and sat down again. Merci squirmed in his arms, fat tears gleaming in her sockets before she gurgled and snuggled in. Her breath came a little wheezy after the fit she started to have, but once she settled, it seemed to go away again.

The worry that each of them felt about that noise.... didn't.

A light, familiar triple knock sounded on the doorframe, and Cross peered in with a pitcher of juice and stacked plastic cups. "Hey... do we need some refreshments...?"

"That sounds good, thanks Cross," Error smiled at the guard, watching him walk in.

Geno raised a brow when he noticed his brother's gaze drift down to watch Cross' ass.

He wasn't surprised though. No, far from it, actually. Throughout the last few weeks, it became increasingly obvious that there was _something_ going on between the two; Cross appearing at their door more and more frequency after some incident Geno wasn't aware of.

In truth, the visits weren't bad. It was hard to ignore the anxiety that the skeleton invoked within Geno, but... Cross was nice. Safe, in some way, even if he was so used to his presence meaning that Nightmare's would soon follow. _It... it could happen this time. This could be a... a literal nightmare, or one of his tricks. If Cross is here, then he could be watching me to make sure-_

Merci whined, freeing him from his darkening thoughts. "Shh... it... it's okay, honey," he reassured her with a waver in his voice, unsure.

With a croon, Reaper pulled the glitch close, promising both their child and his husband that "Everything is perfectly fine." To further comfort them, he brought his forward; wrapping this little portion of his family up in the safety of midnight feathers. "We're out, Gen," he said more quietly, yet firmly. "It's just Cross. _Just_ Cross."

Just Cross... and no Nightmare to follow...

Stars, I hope that's the case.

Only time would tell... and in the meantime...

Geno ducked his face away from the guard to snuggle more into the familiar embrace. Being so near her other father had baby Merci reaching out to touch his feathers. The resulting croon had her giggling with a hand curling around a loose feather-

Though the peaceful atmosphere was shattered when she began to wail at the detached feather.

———

"It's been weeks," his visitor murmured. "Even before you let them go. And still, you've not... demanded help."

"I don't need it. I have all the results here," Negativity growled. "Months... months of research-"

"And still failure."

That sharp green gaze bore into the other's own eyes. "Failure is something I taught others to be ashamed of. But do you know what failure truly is?"

The response was dry, almost bored. "I don't need to know what I can see for myself."

Impatience lashed out in his voice as clearly as his tendrils did. _"Failure_ is an opportunity to make something interesting from something that didn't work. Now *mistakes* are where successes come in."

The guest looked confused. "...mistakes. You're... are you trying to sabotage your own experiment...?"

"Perhaps I'm trying to use a new subject...." that poisonous gaze bore into the guest, dropping to his stomach. "What do you say....?"


	4. Of Errors and Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Error and Dream have a little chat.

Home for a total of thirteen days, not that Error was counting, and yet this was his first time stepping out from their home. Well, this was about to be his first time stepping out. Error simply had to... _move_. Just slightly. An inch, or... or two? Half a yard? What even was half a-

"Error?"

Startling, Error stumbled forward, turning on clumsy feet to face the doorway he tripped through with a loud, "Who the fuck-?!"

Dream stared back at him, surprised to have startled the other so badly, but also- "Heh..." The golden one blinked and frowned. "S...sorry... are you alright?"

Embarrassed, Error scowled deeply and turned away. "Fine." _Of all the people in their home to witness this..._ He sighed and stepped further out, now a little too aware of Dream's eyes on him.

But _outside_.... stars, it felt so strange to be outside, in the sunshine, without fear of hell raining down on him or his husbands for disobeying an order. Well.... 'without fear' might be a bit too strong... 'with less fear'...? _It doesn't fucking matter,_ he narrowed his gaze against the light, grumbling, "It's too fucking bright..."

"Do you want to borrow some sunglasses?"

"No."

Dream frowned slightly, but held his tongue as Error raised his gaze to the sky and took in a deep breath, closing his eyes in what was the most peaceful expression the guardian had seen on his face to date. "Dream." He murmured. "What was Ink like back then?"

The question startled Dream, but perhaps it shouldn't have. This was Error, after all, and while neither had known it for quite some time, both of their priorities tended to be centered around the same thing. The same _person._

"I..." Dream began, slow with hesitation as he mulled the inquiry over. _What was Cree like...?_

At once, multiple descriptions came to mind, but the guardian hesitated to share those with Error. Not out of malicious attempt, or possessiveness, but...

Finally, he settled on an answer. "I don't know." When Error whirled around, offended at what seemed like such a bland, shitty response, Dream raised a hand alit with a gentle golden glow. "I'm not trying to be difficult with you Error, or avoidant. I just..." Watching the glow of his own magic, Dream sighed. He was slightly annoyed to find that the sound was oddly melodic. Beautiful, in all the ways he was created to be. "...I've had time to think. Not nearly enough to have my head on right, but... enough to realize a few things."

"Well why don't you realize some shit about Ink for me?" Error snapped, growling when his response brought a smile to Dream's face. They both knew his current anger was a mere mask. "How the fuck can you not know what Ink was like?" Bitterly, and perhaps spoken with defeat, the destroyer mumbled, "You've known him the longest, haven't you?"

Not quite. "That's just it, Error. I... I'm starting to realize that the Cree-" Error flinched, "That the Ink I knew maybe... maybe wasn't the skeleton he was. Not all of him, at least." Slowly the gold lighting his fingertips spread, creeping up Dream's arm and covering bone like a thin layer of liquid sunlight. "...Most of what you know about him hasn't changed, Error. His love for art, his sense of humor... the foolish way he goes about protecting those he's loves... but now, I can't help but think he hid quite a bit from me out of that desire to protect; that even I don't know the parts of Ink he never wanted people to see."

Error narrowed his sockets against the wave of unease he felt at Dream's words. _Wasn't this old asshole joined at the hip with that older asshole..? What could Ink be hiding from them?_

Though... the destroyer's thoughts drifted back to some of the things he'd seen in Dream's room when the other was out doing Star stuff. A sketchbook with images clearly done in a younger Ink's hand. A book with black marring every page.

Slowly, Error murmured, "The parts of Ink he didn't want others to see... parts that resulted in Negativity?"

Golden orbs erupted, akin to twin suns facing their end and filling the void of Dream's sockets with burning gilded light. _That's some fucking tell,_ Error thought, far more amused than he should have been.

"I guess that answers that," he said, cheekier than he meant.

"You have to understand, Error," Dream tried to calm himself down. "Because there's more to it than that-"

"Is there?" that humor was gone now, especially as his mind began to rack up comparisons between his husband and his abuser. "Because what I'm getting from this is that Ink has the capacity to be as cruel, if not worse, than Negativity."

"Don't you?" Dream murmured.

Sockets narrowed at the guardian. At the primordial. "I-"

"How many times have you played the role of another's Negativity?" The shorter skeleton questioned, voice gentle to soften the blow of his words as they struck Error, hard. "Maybe you've never gone as far as him, but... how many lives have you ruined? Purposefully? _Willingly?_ And just how many times did you enjoy being the villain in another victim's story?"

Ashamed, Error dropped his gaze. It's different, he wanted to say. Only, even he knew the truth of the matter: The only real difference there was, was that him harming others hadn't impacted himself. "..."

"I'm not holding your past actions against you, Error. I just... everyone is capable of being cruel. Just because that cruelness was perhaps crafted by Ink doesn't mean he ever intended for it to be used."

"Others won't see it like you."

"I don't care about what _others_ think right now, Error. I care about what you think. Do you honestly believe Ink will turn against you and your family? That he'll abandon you simply because he and I have our memories back?" when the silence stretched too long, Dream got his answer. "You... thought he wouldn't stay...."

"He wasn't _going_ to, Dream. Before we left-" Error tensed, narrowing his gaze slightly. Dream, too, froze slightly. Nobody really talked about how they were able to leave, except to say that half of Geno's SOUL was left behind.

Frowning a little, Dream murmured, "Ink was going to stay if it meant the rest of you could go. Am I right?"

The tears that welled in Error's sockets and the angry way he turned to scrub them away.... _Ink, you idiot..._

"What was Ink like back then?" Error asked again, voice cracking with emotion.

And this time, Dream heard what he truly wanted to know:

_Did he ever make you feel like this? Even back then, did Ink hurt the ones he loved in order to keep them safe?_

Gold receded until simple orbs swam in the sorrowful voids of Dream's sockets.

"...We won't let him make the same mistakes, Error," he whispered, those words all the answer that Error needed to form a bitter laugh. "You and I... No. _All of us,_ we're going to work together, okay? To keep our family safe, and to keep Ink _here._ Together, okay?"

Error swallowed thickly.

Then, he nodded, stepping closer to reach for the guardian's hand.

"Together."

———

He wandered through his samples yet again. Everything was organized, as it should be, though nothing had been working for him. _Yet._ A glance to the crib had him glowering just slightly. "You managed to do it without a single other around.... and I'm going to be the only other that does the same..."


	5. Headaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which dealing with temper tantrums can be such a headache.

The passage of time felt... strange. Unreal, actually. After weeks upon weeks spent without the sun, it was a little unnerving to realize that they could look out the window and just... watch as time went on. No longer were they reliant on the clocks within their prison, but they could see the evidence of change. Sunrise, sunset, and everything in between was reflected by the sky that gradually shifted throughout the day.

Oranges and pinks to golden hues and bright blues and- well, Ink was the artist, not him. He probably knew the specific names of each and every color whereas Reaper could only look up at the sky and simplify it all. Still, it was fun to try. Grounding, in a way, because the more colors he could name in the sky as the day progressed only added to the proof of their freedom.

Nightmare's realm was encased by eternal night after all, but the sky over their home? It cycled through _hours_ of bright, beautiful daylight before darker hues crept in. It was different. So, so very different, and even if it was strange, that difference was appreciated. _Needed._

Now, when a weight settled on his chest, Reaper peeked a socket open to find vivid light creeping in through the blinds of his bedroom, painting Goth in gentle strokes of gold that seemed so dull next to the bright, enthusiastic smile his eldest son gave him. 

"Daddy, you're awake!" Goth exclaimed, happy to ignore the fact that he himself was the reason for this. "Good! Come on now, Daddy! You gotta hurry up, kay? 'Cause I wanna go flying with you! Look," he fluttered his wings, "m'all ready and everything! So up! Please? Pretty please? I waited a really, really, reeeeally long time!"

Sleep lingered at the rounded edges of his sockets, but it was the weight of metal around his ankle that left Reaper hesitating over a response. He had some time to get used to the fine shackle, but it still interfered with once-fluid movements when it came to drifting around. But flying? That was something he had yet to attempt. In all honesty, he was... a little afraid to give it a try. Due to that fear, he foolishly hoped that he could wait for the anklet's removable before attempting it, but... 

_"I don't understand!" Ink snapped, sockets flaring with light. With a growl, his pupils vanished before coming to life as a multitude of shapes. A blink, then his normal symbols were back. Another blink, and they were gone, replaced by a vivid red filling the voids of his socket. Another blink, another change, then another and another and another as his frustration worsened. It was... dizzying, to say the least. A little discomforting, too. "This- it shouldn't be this difficult to figure it out! It's just his magic, dammit! I should be able to-fuck!" he yelped, tearing his hand away to suckle on a slight singe._

_"Hon," Dream murmured, taking up Ink's hand and inspecting his fingertips. With a flare of gold, the small burn disappeared. Pleased, he let Ink go in order to focus on the god next, taking in the way that the bone around Reaper's anklet was starting to look flushed. Irritated. "Let's give Reaps a break, okay? You and I can... check the library? **Our** library," he clarified. _

_"...Do you even remember where it's hidden?"_

_Dream winced. "I... was hoping that you remembered...”_

"Daddy!" Goth complained, snapping Reaper out of his thoughts. Scowling, the little guy reached out and squished his face. "Listen to me! Daddy, I wanna go flying! Please? I've been good! Promise!"

 _...I... can probably handle it,_ Reaper thought, trying to ignore his own uncertainty. "Alright hatchling. Let's go practice in the backyard. _After_ breakfast," he interrupted when the child brightened. "Little birds-"  
  
_"Come here, little bird. Let Master hear your voice."_

Reaper swallowed, feeling ill as a headache eased its way into his skull alongside the small memory. "...Little hatchlings need energy for flying..." he whispered, working hard to keep a smile on his face for Goth's sake.

Luckily, the little guy didn't seem to notice anything wrong with his father, distracted by the promise of flight. "Flying with daddy! Flying with daddy!!" he cheered, chirping loudly and whistling a cheerful tune. 

_"Ah, ah, ah. None of that, godling. I said let me hear your **voice,** not your little bird calls." A hand slid up to rest upon his thigh. "Go on, Reapsy. Try again. Just know that should you fail me again... Well, let's just say that I have other methods of making you **sing** for me, little bird."_

Reaper forced his wavering smile to still, watching with a plastic expression of joy as Goth scrambled off his chest and out of the room. Listening closely, he caught the sound of little feet pounding down the stairs and a faint cry of '"I need food NOW, mama! S'for flying!" before it became too difficult to make anything else out. 

Sure of his privacy, he let his smile wither away. _My... my head..._

Stars, it ached, though that word seemed too insignificant in the face of the tremendous pain. This wasn't just any old headache, it was... _torture._ Every painful throb of his skull was reminiscent of the sharp agony of claws tapping on his leg, growing sharper every time Reaper fumbled the pitch of a tune or forgot the words to a song he barely knew. Now, he swore he could hear that tapping now, the imagined sound melding with the throbbing pain and the tickling of a clock he didn't own yet heard all the same. 

Throb. _Tap._ **Tick.**

Throb. _Tap._ **Tock.**

Throb. _Tap._ **Tick.**

Throb. _Tap._ **To-**

With a bitten back trill, Reaper pressed Geno's abandoned pillow over his head, near tears. _Shut up... shutupshutupshutup... please..._ He was doing so well, damnit. Ever since their return, that damn ticking was absence from his thoughts, but now it was back. _But why?_ Why, why was that damn, insistent ticking back? He was fine! Res was handling his duties, he was back home with his family, and the children were safe. _All_ of the children were safe! So why? Whywhywhywhy-

_"Tick-tock, Reapsy. We're running out of time and you have yet to finish a song."_

Shuddering, he clenched his sockets shut. In an attempt to ignore the imagined noises, he thought to the door of their bathroom; to what he knew would be a hidden cabinet of pain medication and chocolate stored behind the mirror. He was quick to discard the thought, however. A few measly pills wouldn't be enough to end this pain. No, a more serious action had to be taken, and he knew just what that action was:   
  
He had to return to-

"DADDY!" Goth screeched from downstairs.

He had to go appease his eldest.

 _If I can make it that far..._ he thought, cringing. Shaking his head, which only served to worsen his pain, Reaper shooed away those thoughts with a sigh and plastered a bright smile on his face. _I've kept Goth waiting long enough._ Not to mention the others who were probably all waiting for him. _I wonder if Gen made me coffee..._

With that in mind, he finally pushed himself up from bed with a sigh. As he did so, he absentmindedly took note of the fact that neither of the twins were in their shared crib, though that was something he really should have noticed sooner. _Did Gen take them downstairs all by himself...?_ he hoped that wasn't the case, not that he didn't trust his husband or anything! It was just... difficult to let go of his worry whenever he saw Geno wavering on his feet. _I wish he would agree to another examination from Sci... or just admit when he needs help..._

Unfortunately, Geno was stubborn. It was something Reaper both loved and bemoaned about the glitch.

 _Gen..._ "I should buy you ketchup. You like ketchup," he mumbled to himself, shifting the slightest to keep himself straight when the weight around his ankle caused him to wobble in the air. "Some more chocolate for Ru, maybe? Something pretty for Lo- for Dream... like coffee? Coffee smells pretty. Uh, might as well get Cross something, he's been pretty helpful lately. Oh, and maybe a-"

Forgetting to watch where he was going, Reaper startled when he bumped into someone. "O-oh, sorry-" unintentionally, he interrupted himself with a moan as all his pain abruptly vanished, overwhelming him with a sense of relief so strong it left him mindless with pleasure. "There is a god," he groaned, slumping forward and trilling. Halfway through, the pleased sound warped into a sob when a warm hand reached up to cradle the back of his skull, shooing away what little aches attempted to worm their way back. "Marry me."

Dream wrapped an arm around him, amusement warring with concern. "Reaps? Are you okay? Ink and I... well, I wanted to check up on you." Gently, he massaged the taller skeleton's skull with flowing fingertips. "You... have a really persistent headache, it seems." Thankfully, it seemed to be retreating in the face of his magic-

Golden orbs sharpened, suspicious. _...My magic, huh...?_ "Reaps-"

A drawn out croon interrupted him, Reaper sinking onto him more like an overgrown, feathery child. "Marry meeee," the god trilled, nuzzling into his neck with a pleased sigh. "Stars, you're like a bottle of Apsirin and a mini space heater in one."

Smiling a little, Dream murmured, "You don't have to marry me to abuse my abilities, Reap." He didn't expect an answer though, so he simply stayed there and held the god closer. In the silence that followed however, his suspicions returned. "Hon, when did this headache appear? Did you wake up with it?"

"Marry meeeee," was all the god said, slurring a bit this time.

 _Oh my- shit!_ At once, Dream pulled his magic back to himself, watching with a startled gaze as gold crept away from Reaper and back towards himself. Within moments, there was no sign of glimmering hues on either of their forms and Reaper was straightening from his slouch with a slow, confused blink of dazed sockets. "I... I'm sorry," the guardian apologized, mortified. _I... I didn't even notice my magic spreading..._ nor did he quite recall if that was good or bad. 

Judging by the way that Reaper _seemed_ fine, he was going to go with... good. Maybe. "L- _Dream?"_ the god mumbled, confused. 

_Huh, he's getting better at correcting himself._ "I'm sorry," Dream repeated, "I just- I was trying to help soothe your headache and I... kind of lost control? I think? I-" _drugged you up on unfiltered positivity, I think._ "Went too far. I'm sorry."

Tilting his head, Reaper frowned a bit before shrugging and slumping against him again. "Is it possible for you to just... never let me go ever again? That... wasn't the worst feeling in the world." It was actually kind of nice. Warm, safe... Soothing, really. "I'm light, so feel free to just carry me around for... forever."

Dream chuckled a bit, relieved that the god didn't seem angry about his mistake. "That may be a little difficult to manage, sweetheart. You're taller than me, after all. How about we head down for breakfast and I just sit on your lap instead?" To sweeten the deal, he added, "We can make the others jealous~"

"Last time we did that, no one let me hug Geno _all day._ Or Marigold! Mari is _my_ baby, too!" Nuzzling the top of Dream's skull, the god slumped more and pressed a kiss smooth bone with a pleased smile when Dream proved to have little trouble holding his weight. That was hot. "...Thanks, Sunstar," he murmured, both for the spoiling he was being treated to and the disappearance of his painful headache. "...Marriage is still an option, you know? You could be Mr. Dream-"

"You don't need to thank me, hon," Dream interrupted, smiling as he avoided the topic. To further distract the god, he slid an arm behind Reaper's legs and shifted in order to literally sweep the taller skeleton off his feet, holding Reaper close as he purred, "Is this okay?"

Reaper chirped in surprise but wrapped his arms around Dream's neck. A bright cyan blush glowed upon his cheeks and he murmured, "Y-yeah."

Smile softening on him, Dream brought a kiss upon his head and carried him downstairs.

Goth looked up, giggling when he saw Reaper curled up in Dream's arms. "Papa!!”

Grinning widely, the god offered his yo- huh, Goth wasn't exactly the youngest child anymore though, now was he? A little bemused, he chuckled and chirped a little tune in greeting to the five-year-old, smiling wider when Goth eagerly responded with his own series of cheerful noises. _I don't think I've seen him without a smile since we've returned..._

Actually, that wasn't quite true.

_Frowning, Goth raised his arms, expectant. "Daddy, carry me now."_

_Adjusting his hold on Merciful when she began to squirm, Reaper offered his son an apologetic grin. "Sorry, baby bird. My arms are all full with your little sister right now."_

_"That's what you said earlier! It's my turn, carry me!" At the sharp look from his father, Goth huffed but adjusted his tone. "...Please?"_

_"Gothy..."_

_Realizing that he was going to be shot down, the little skeleton sniffled. "I waited lots already..."_

_And before Reaper could respond, he began to wail._

Lingering guilt intensified, earning him a concerned glance from Dream as the golden-eyed skeleton set him down on a chair just to crawl onto his lap. _I... haven't been the best father lately, have I...?_

But that didn't seem to be the problem right now, what with his little hatchling grinning brightly at him.

He wondered just how long this pain would be relieved for. Long enough to fly with his son...? _Stars, I hope so..._ It wasn't like he could ask Dream to stay on... him....

Unless....?

He peered over to the primordial in question and narrowed his sockets slightly in thought.

"...Is there something you'd like to ask of me, Reapsy?"

A blink.

Amused, Dream pressed a warm mug into his hands. "Well?" he pushed, grinning when the god eagerly sipped from the contents of the mug. Coffee. Hot, bitter coffee.

 _Stars, I want to bathe myself in this liquid._ Since returning home, he alternated between having his hands full with Geno, his other husbands, the children, and brewing as much coffee as he could during his free time. "I don't suppose you've ever wanted to fly?" As he spoke, he raked fuzzy memories in an attempt to recall if any of The Great Primordial Beings had wings. He didn't think so, but he couldn't say for sure and didn't want to come off as foolish. "You're not so heavy that I couldn't carry you." And even if Dream was, he would gladly suffer an attempt to keep the other close. 

"...Implying that I _am_ still somewhat heavy?" Dream said flatly.

Geno looked up from toying with his food with a small frown. "Reaps-"

"I know, Gen. I'll practice low to the ground first to make sure I can maintain my balance, and flight."

Geno frowned slightly more. "And Goth?"

"I can fly!!" The young child demanded, offended at the implication that he couldn't.

Geno set his mom face on him and said, "Even if you can, it's better to practice low. If you're too high, it'll hurt when you hit the grou-"

"You don't have wings! You don't know!"

Reaper narrowed his sockets. "We won't be flying at all if you give your mother attitude again."

Goth reared back as though struck, his sockets filling with tears at the threat. "You _hafta_ take me flying, Daddy! _You hafta!_ I... I waited lots, and... and..." Scrambling for an argument, the little skeleton slapped his hands on the table and leaned across it the best he could, wet gaze accusing. "You missed my birthday!"

The words were directed at Reaper, but they all flinched.

And really, what could be said against that? Goth was right about the fact that Reaper missed his birthday. That they _all_ missed his birthday. Not just that, but the downtrodden expression Paperjam wore reminded everyone at the table that he Goth wasn't the only child seemingly abandoned on their special day. "Hon..." Uncertain glanced were exchanged. _Where do we go from here?_

"Uncle... uncle Ressy told me that you taught _him_ how to fly on his birthday..." Goth continued, trembling as his wings pressed against his back tightly. "How come you didn't do it for me? How come you won't teach me flying now, either?" When Merci began squirming in her other father's hold, Goth's expression changed. Darkened. "...How come you only care about _them?!"_ he shouted, motioning towards the twins.

"Gothy, that's not true-"

"LIAR!"

Reaper fixed his son in his gaze and very calmly murmured, "Let me speak, hatchling." Goth still trembled in his seat, rage brewing within himself, but the desire to please his father after not seeing him for so long... it just barely won out. "Your parents and I went through a..... _rough_ time. Us missing your birthday and Paperjam's birthday is not okay, but it wasn't something we could control. I understand that you and Paperjam have been waiting a long time for us. Honey, we've been waiting a long time to see you two as well.

"We care about the lot of you. Both you and Paperjam, _and_ our new additions, Marigold and Merciful. But Mari and Merci are _babies._ They cannot care for themselves as you two can, and they rely on us even if they do not know of it yet.

"Though it isn't your birthday anymore, I'll still teach you, Gothy. You're _my_ hatchling, after all. But I think it's time I also teach you better coping mechanisms for your emotions. It's okay to be angry, but... yelling at us isn't helpful."

The other parents stared at him, though Ink was quick to murmur to Paperjam, "This goes for you too honey. All of it." A pause. "Maybe not the flying part, but still."

As intended, Ink's addition eased some of the tension within the room. _Some, but not all..._ he thought, discreetly taking note of the darker hue of colors within the room.

"Tch, idiot," Error grumbled, serving Paperjam another pancake when the little guy- er, girl struggled to do so herself. _Fuck, I... I can't believe I have daughter... sometimes._ Apparently, it was more complicated than that, but he was trying his best to catch up on all the learning he missed. _I... I should make her? Them? I should make Jam a dress... in case PJ ever wants one..._

Paperjam was a little taller now. A little more grown. Some of the things he made for the eldest skeleton child probably didn't fit as well as they were meant to anymore. _I... don't even know if anything needs replacing..._ His heart dropped, realizing just how much he missed.

As she seemed to do often, almost too often, Merciful began to wail.

"Not hungry, or in pain," Ink was quick to reassure, swaying in his seat slightly as he rocked the distraught infant. "She's just a little blue, Gen. Uh, Mari is starting to feel hungry though, so he may wake up from his nap soon. Heh, kinda surprised he hasn't already..." Then again, Marigold was already proving to have inherited a fondness for naps, as well as Geno's own ability to sleep deeply. His sister's crying never really bothered him, it seemed. "Do you want us to look away, or...?"

Already stiffening at the imagined sensation of eyes leering at his form, Geno pushed away from the table and stood with the oldest twin in his arms. "I... I'll f-feed him in the living room..."

"Right..." Ink murmured, watching him go before focusing on the children. "So-"

Goth mumbled. "...Can we still fly Daddy....?"

"Yes we can, hatchling. But it will have to be lower to the ground okay? Not because I doubt you, but because of something that's happened with me."

"What happened...?"

"..."

Error grumbled, "Eh, don't you worry about it little bird brain."

Respite perked up slightly. "Ah!" it seemed he was finally awake, for he chirped out, "The three of us could fly together!"

Still very new to the family, though figuring things out, Cross watched Goth brighten a little more too, the darkness in his features fading in favor of the thought of the family activity. "Yeah!!"

And just like that, the moment of conflict was over. Goth resumed eating, Reaper sipped at his coffee and stole bites from Dream's plate, and... well, everyone just kind of... moved on. Scarred and still broken in places but... trying. Succeeding too, though that was far from being a constant.

_How... how are they doing it...?_

Trying to subtle, he glanced around the room as he went through the motions of eating. A scoop of eggs, a bite of bacon, a sip from his glass... he didn't taste any of it, but he needed the food and the simple cycle of bite, chew, swallow, drink were soothing in a way. _Geno and the smallest in the other room, the husbands all in here... Error's other brother, Spright, left early for work..._ When Respite excused himself from the table, Cross added that into his observations.

 _Everyone is accounted for, everyone is... well. Alive._ After he ate, he would check the traps he had set up around the house. Afterwards, he would train outside to keep an eye on whoever decided to watch the winged ones fly. Not out of suspicion, but to ensure their safety. _They didn't escape, they were let go,_ Cross reminded himself.

That meant... caution.

 _I'll keep you safe..._ The words were meant for everyone, but his eyes ended up on Error as the thought settled in. _...I won't let him take you again..._


	6. A Past Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reaper learns just where his respect for Ink comes from.

Stepping into the hall, Reaper paused. "O...oh..." he murmured, a little thrown off by the sight of Ink sitting against the other wall, sketchpad spread over his lap. If he were to be honest with himself, then he would admit to being embarrassed too. _He... probably heard all of that, huh?_ Great.

"If you're going to stare, could you at least compliment me or something...?"

Reaper jumped and quickly looked away. "I'm not." But he was, wasn't he? Not intentionally, but still staring all the same. Out of surprise. In awe.

A little fearfully.

"Heh..." Ink looked up from his sketchbook. "How was the flying lesson?"

_"Can we go a little higher daddy?" Goth whined, already tired of the figurative training wheels his father had him on. "I wanna... I wanna touch the clouds! No, THE SUN!"_

_Looking at his son's still somewhat shaky form, Reaper desperately wanted to say no. What if Goth hit something? What if something hit him? What if he gets too far away and-_

_"Aim for the clouds, Gothy, but not the sun." He found himself murmuring, weak in the face of such genuine hope. Off to the side, Respite smiled at him in silent supportive of his decision to be a little brave. "The sun is too hot. Your wings may not be made of wax, but we don't want to make an Icarus out of you."_

_"...Huh?"_

_Reaper chuckled weakly. "Nothing, Gothy. Now, raise yourself slowly- Goth! Goth, I said slow- Shit!"_

_Arms outstretched, he dove forward with a panicked screech._

"It was... eventful...?"

The empath raised a brow, questioning. _And...?_ the look seemed to say.

It took everything within Reaper not to deflate at the silent probing. "You're sitting out in the hall, Lo- _Ink._ Ink. I... I know you heard everything." Unfortunately, "everything" was the unnervingly calm manner in which Geno chewed him out for the ugly bump on Goth's little skull.

Could it even be considering getting chewed out if Geno never once yelled? Because he hadn't. Instead, the glitch merely murmured and stared; gaze intense yet... sad. Disappointed. _Worried,_ as if Geno didn't make himself sick with everything else he already agonized over. _He's going to sneak out of bed again._ Geno thought he was getting away with it, but stress resulted in Reaper sleeping far more lightly than he usually did. He wasn't ignorant to the way Geno crept from his arms to check on the children, like clockwork. Always nervous. Always _afraid,_ as if the children would disappear under the cover of night. _I... I wish I knew how to bring it up..._ but he didn't. Not in a way that wouldn't make things worse.

And now, because of Reaper, Geno was going to get even less sleep than his usual anxiety allowed. 

_Why didn't I see that hawk coming towards him? I was being so careful, I should have seen it. Stars, I... I should have at least caught him **sooner!** What if he hit the ground? What if he broke something instead of ending up with a bump? _

Why did a simple piece of jewelry make him so fucking _slow?_

Skull beginning to ache again, the god sighed, "...I really messed up..." _I just wanted to make Goth happy._

"Messed up how?"

"I know you heard everything," Reaper repeated sullenly.

Ink shot him a kind smile and dropped his gaze back down to his art. "Maybe. But I also heard how excited Goth was. 'I got hit by a bird! In the _sky!_ How cool is that? Daddy! Daddy do you think it'll scar?' Geno might be... worried about him. But _Goth_ isn't worried. He'll heal up in a couple days."

Reaper cringed harder.

"Reaper." The two met gazes, though Reaper was quick to look away. "...Do you have something you want to ask me?" _You keep looking at me like you have something to say, but you never make a move to speak._ Why? Ink was still... Ink. He was still the skeleton Reaper used to interact with so freely before his true identity came out. "If you have something to say, I'll listen, hon." _Please, talk to be normally. I'm still your Inky. I'm still yours..._ "Reaps?"

"...It's... nothing...."

Frowning, Ink dropped his pen into his book. "Reaps... you can talk to me-" _Please. Please, please, please. It's been_ days _now and-_

"Can I...? It's.... I know it's just you, but it... it doesn't feel like it's you, Ink."

Surprisingly, Ink smiled. Were he an empath, Reaper would have been able to see just how much relief went into the pleasant expression. _Finally..._ A bit of honesty. Normalcy. "Heh, I'm surprised you actually said it out loud. No one else has, you know?" _Everyone seems too afraid to mention it._ Closing his sketchbook, the artist spared a moment to stretch before standing. "Follow me?"

A question, not an order.

 _Then why do I hear it as one?_ "Ink..." the god sighed, feeling guilty over the fact that he felt guilty for calling the primordial by such an informal name. "I..."

"Shh, just... follow me, Reaps. If you want to, I mean. I..." Smiling gently, Ink reached out and took up the god's hand. "I want to show you something. We can talk more there, if you like?" In private.

"Gen-"

Ink squeezed is hand slightly. "It's in my studio, hon. We don't have to go far." _I wouldn't dare leave any of you here all alone._

Reaper stared at him for a moment longer before following in Ink's footsteps. Which was just so.... _odd._ He knew they were in the here and now, but when he looked at Ink's back...

_Flowing robes, a straight posture, sockets that he barely got to see, and only when the other turned, blazing with so many colors-_

Compared to the tense, tired frame of the artist. A little thinner, with more casual clothes, and simple shapes in his sockets. And yet, they were the same person. The same _being._ _How strange that it only feels like it sometimes..._ and yet, the shadow of Creativity, The First of Them All, always loomed over Ink's form. 

Ink paused by his studio, letting Reaper go in first. Letting him readjust to the once colorful and bright room with art lining the walls being now... bare...?

"....What is...?"

"I'm still trying to balance myself, Reaps."

When he turned, he found those kaleidoscopes he faintly recalled awaiting his gaze.

"I...Ink..." he murmured, hesitance painfully obvious. _It feels wrong, calling you that. It... it feels-_ he shuddered, faces he couldn't recall beyond hateful scowls flashing before his eyes as spiteful voices both familiar and not hissed at him. Disrespectful, they called him, but he couldn't remember _why,_ just the feeling of shame and fear and-

"Reaper?"

He only realized that he dropped his gaze when he had to lift it to see Ink. And yet, the moment his void sockets landed on the artist, his gaze dropped again. _I... I shouldn't look at him. I shouldn't-_

Hands cradled his skull, applying the lightest pressure as the empath coaxed his head back so that their eyes could meet yet again. "Look at me, please..." _You've never struggled to meet my gaze before. Why has this changed? Why is there this... this distance between us now?_ Shapes and colors shifting in his eyes, Ink whispered, "Reaper, may I have your consent to... check something? I can't promise it'll be pleasant."

"Yes," Reaper said, the words out before he could think.

A hint of yellow in blackening sockets. Of pink. "I need you to agree because you want to, hon. Not because Lord Creativity stands before you." _Why do you insist on showing me such respect? Why would a god once a godling scramble to appease someone he has little memory of?_ What made Ink, Reaper's husband, so much of a threat in his mind that he danced around him on eggshells when the god wasn't even fearful of disrespecting his own king? "Reaper," he tried again, "may I try something?"

After a long moment, the winged god nodded, murmuring a quiet, "Yes."

With that, Ink pressed his forehead against his husband's, magic surging forward and intertwining with the god's as a connection sprung up between them. Pleased to feel Reaper within his very own self, the empath closed his eyes and sifted through the god's emotions, finding them even clearer like this. _Where is it... where... Ah, there._

He latched on tight to the unnerved respect within Reaper, and _pulled._

Together, the two went spiraling.

_Reaper screeched as he was thrown down, limbs caught by whips that snapped through the air and curled around him, dragging him to the floor. He tried to struggle, but they pulled until he was flat on his back, wings folded painfully beneath him. "I... I'm sorry...!" he cried, youthful voice thickening with tearful horror. He didn't know what he did to anger them this time, but he was sorry!_

_The only response he got was a crack as another whip cut through the air, throwing dust up as it snapped against the ground just next to his head. A purposeful miss. A warning._

_"I... I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I don't know what I did, but... but I'm sorry!"_

_Gazed were exchanged among the silent gods before, as one, they shifted south as a figure emerged from shadows so out of place with the current position of the sun._

_"We captured the god as commanded, my lord."_

_"Good," a deep voice purred as the figure stepped into the light. "Very good indeed." Gleaming emeralds turned his way. "Hello, little bird."_

_As any child would do when faced with terror, Reaper shut his eyes. If he couldn't see the scary thing, then surely it would go away, right? ...R... right...?_

_"Now, now. None of that, little one." The voice was close. Far too close, given how the other skeleton had been so far just a few seconds ago. "Open your eyes. It's rude to avoid someone's gaze when you're in the middle of a conversation. I'll give you... to the count of three to appease me. One-"_

_His eyes flew open._

_And Lord Negativity smiled, please. "Obedient. Good, good... then perhaps you'll heed my warning. Well, not so much a warning as it is an order." Before Reaper could warn him away, the primordial reached out and took hold of his skull, the thrill of the touch ruined by claws that formed and dug into bone. "It's a simple thing to ask of you, so I'll make this quick."_

_Reaper whimpered as those claws bit into his skull further. "It... i-it hurts..."_

_His complaint only worsened the pain. "Never again will you treat your Lord Creativity as poorly as you have done today. Never again will you call him so familiarly, or trail after him as if he were some common god for you to cling to. **Never again** will the great divinity that is Lord Creativity be tarnished by the stain of your presence. Do you understand?"_

_Another squeeze, the sound of cracking as his skull strained, and Reaper cried out, "Yes! Y-yes, I... I understand...!" with a terrified sob._

_And just like that, the hand retreated, followed by the whips restraining him with the primordial gestured to the gods. "Good. Fly away then, little bird." A chuckled, deep and pleased. "And do keep this between us. I wouldn't want Cree learning where all the respect for him truly comes from.”_

When he opened his eyes, he expected it to be sudden: A violent thing only paled by the fury or anger within his husband's own sockets.

So when Reaper finally did open his tear-filled sockets, widened with horror at the details that had been forgotten to even him, he was surprised to see not untapped rage, but a deep sorrow. Nearly unending blues swimming within his eyes as he gently let Reaper's face go. "Even back then..." Cree murmured, a frown deepened the crease between his brows. "But... but why...?"

To that, Reaper didn't have an answer. Just a growing feeling of needing to be away, or to be lower. To drop to his knees, to call him by his proper title, as he had in his youth. Even though he knew his husband wouldn't like it. _He saw... he saw why I feel this way.... even when I hadn't known for myself the details-_

"Do you know why I wish for you to still call me Ink...?"

"...N...no..." he had to stick his tongue between his teeth like a fool and bite to keep from adding a respectful title to his response. _No, my lord. No, Great Creativity. No, The First-_

"Because Geno and Error are scared of me, even though it's just... my memories-"

Reaper shook his head, stepping back enough to drop his gaze. "It isn't just those." _You interrupted him! How dare you-_ Shuddering against the ache in his skull, the god clenched his eyes shut and forced himself to continue speaking. "I... it's the... the powers you suddenly remembered. It's you putting Error to sleep and your eyes that sometimes remind us of-" he bit down on his words. _That was.... was that disrespectful...?_ In all honesty, he didn't know. Everything hurt, dammit... "I'm going to go with Res to work tomorrow."

"I'm coming with you."

At Reaper's expression, Ink chuckled a bit. It was clear that his heart wasn't in it. "Are you really all that surprised? There's been... quite a bit that I missed. There's people I need to speak with."

"Asgore?" Reaper guessed, the name coming to him so much easier than Ink's own did. The man was meant to be his king, yet there was no hesitance in addressing him so freely. _I... really am treating Ink differently..._ and seemed so... wrong.

But he couldn't make himself _stop._

"Hm, Asgore, among others..." Sighing, the artist stepped back, away from the god. "Have you told anyone else that you're heading out tomorrow?"

He shook his head and Ink nodded in understanding. "Alright. We'll tell them together then, yeah?"

"....Now....?"

"We should. The sooner they know, the better."

The elder god of death studied Ink further. _Did he wish to join simply to talk to these other gods...? Or perhaps it was to reclaim his place at the head of the table?_ Though even thinking upon those fuzzy memories came with an aloof leader who saw no danger from any corner of the worlds. Or from any within his court. And even then, said danger was swiftly dealt with...

"Well, Reaps...?"

He hesitated. _Could I even say no to him...?_ "What if Dream wants to come with too?" _Why is his name so easy to call...?_

"He can visit with you next time. I'd prefer he stay here to ensure everyone's safety, as I'm hoping to ensure yours when we go."

He wasn't sure when or exactly why, but soon, Reaper was doubled over himself laughing. His worsening headache brought tears to his eyes that his high, cackling laugh disguised as a result of amusement. 

Ink... Ink wanted to protect him? _Him?_

_Boy, he's going to have his work cut out for him._


	7. Big Fears, Little Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno is trying his best, but there's no need for him to do so alone.

Geno manages a total of two weeks before he breaks. To make matters worse, it happens over something so... so _small_. Insignificant, really.

He wakes to Reaper crawling out of bed and bids him a goodbye with a kiss, nervous as he watches the god drift out to fetch Ink and downright anxious as the two head out. It's nothing he can't handle though, so he swallows sickening emotion so familiar to him by now and goes about his morning.

Check on the twins.

Check on the older children.

Check on the twins again.

Check on the older children again.

Check on the-

It's take him far too long to break the cycle. By the time he does, his legs ache with the maddening pacing he's been doing in order to accomplish his obsessive checking. He's hungry too, but he can't carry both of the twins downstairs on his own and he doesn't want to wake anyone for help, so he sits on his bed. Silent.

Everything is silent.

And it's _that_ which somehow manages to break him: The silence.

Later, when Cross wakes and decides to creep downstairs for some food, he pauses when he hears the familiar sound of an equally familiar crying. _Geno...?_

He ends up at the bathroom door, the source of the sound. "Geno...?" he called. At the sudden silence, Cross couldn't help but to nearly smack himself upon the forehead. _What if he thinks this is a trap? That they're not out?_ Until now, he was doing a good enough job at staying out of the way to ensure the others didn't worry so much but...

Well, it was difficult. His life had gone from one structure to another, to nothing. He hadn't worked up the courage to talk to Error about anything yet, so what little structure he provided for himself revolved around exercise and trying to make sure the husbands and their children were okay. Even when he found that he could relax and draw or write or do something stationary, a lingering anxiety of _this is wrong_ would overcome him, pushing him to keep moving.

But with Geno crying... _I just want to help..._

In for a penny, in for a pound, or so the saying went. Deciding that there was no point in backing away now that he made his presence known, Cross knocked again; thrice. "Geno...? It's, uh, it's me. Cross, I mean. I just... Are you okay?" A long pause, awkwardness having the time to settle in alongside his uncertainty. "Can I... come in? U-unless you're not decent! In that case, I'll just- here! I can stay here. Outside. In the hall-"

With a quiet _click_ , the door unlocked and swung open, revealing Geno's trembling form. "I... I'm... okay..." he whispered, all signs of his tears poorly hidden away. "I..." the glitch's gaze jumped between the open door and Cross. Realizing what he did, he stumbled backwards in completely and utter terror. "I... I didn't mean..."

"This is your house, Geno." Keeping his voice soft and his movements slow, Cross lightly tapped the open the door with a smile he wasn't really feeling. "You're allowed to open whatever doors you want."

_Nightmare's rules have no power here._

It still took a few moments for Geno to raise his eyes back up to Cross and nod slightly, stepping from the bathroom to join him in the hall. "I'm okay," he repeated.

"You're not..." Cross offered him a hand. "But it's okay to not be."

The glitch's next words came out as a whisper, "It doesn't seem real... we're not really free, we-"

"We are not in Negativity's castle." Geno flinched but met Cross' gaze again. He smiled gently back. "We aren't. We're back in your house. The kids really are here. It's not a trick."

Geno gripped Cross' hand. "It isn't going to last..."

Cross tried to shrug away his own worries over the same thing. "Perhaps not, but it's the reality now. We're okay right _now._ And you know the others are doing what they can to make sure it stays like that."

"....And if it doesn't?" Geno whispered, hopelessness a weight he couldn't shake.

"Then we get out again." It wouldn't be easy, but... they'd manage it. Somehow. "Have you eaten yet? I don't think anyone else is up yet, but maybe you can make us all something...? I, uh, I hear you're a pretty good cook."

Geno dropped his gaze, fiddling with Cross' fingers as he considered the other skeleton's words. Cooking...? He wouldn't mind, but... "I... I can't. We haven't been home in m-months, and- they probably changed the kitchen. N-not that I'm upset with them, because I'm not, I just..." Slumping, Geno dropped Cross' hand and made his way back to his usual room. Goth's old baby monitor was in his pocket, but he wanted to make sure they were still doing okay. Just in case. "...All I'll be able to make is pancakes and eggs, and we've had that nearly every breakfast since we got back."

"It's a classic?"

Pausing in the doorway of his room, the glitch glanced around nervously as if double checking the space was free before quickly making his way inside, heading to the crib. Still sleeping... _still alive_... "The children love pancakes, but even they're getting sick of them. I'll... ask one of the others to cook."

"...I can... help with the cutting if that's what you're afraid of...?"

Geno stiffened slightly, avoiding his gaze.

That was definitely enough of an answer.

With a small smile, Cross murmured, "What do you want to make?"

"Omelets. The... the onions would need to be diced...."

"I can do that for you," Cross nodded. "I'll just use a counter a bit away from you, so you won't have to see them, okay?"

Geno glanced back down at the twins, hesitated. "Can... you help me carry them down...? I don't like the idea of trying to hold them at once when I'm standing." It would be possible to leave one downstairs in order to get the other twin, but he didn't like that idea either. "Merciful is made of sturdier stuff than her brother if you're nervous."

"...That obvious?" Cross asked, wincing. He thought he was hiding his panic pretty well.

Surprisingly, the glitch shook his head. "No, you're... just as murdery looking as ever, but," he shrugged, "I can tell. You and Error are a lot alike" A smile wormed its way onto Geno's face when Merci cooed in her sleep, the sound similar to the ones Reaper and Goth usually made. "You look surprised."

Probably because he was. "You think Teach and I...?"

"Are alike? Yeah, I do. U-uh, here." Taking care to ensure that he didn't disturb her, Geno lifted Merciful from the crib and gently passed her to Cross, wordlessly correcting his hold on the peaceful little bundle of bones. "...For someone that's pretty infamous for his temper, Error only really ever looks angry when he's trying not to seem weak. You tend to get icy when you want to hide something you don't think you're allowed to feel."

"What makes you say- ...oh."

Geno's smile didn't lessen as he grabbed Marigold, but it did sadden. "...Yeah," he murmured, confirming what Cross realized. "There wasn't really much to do those first weeks but sit around and suffer. Turns out you pick up a few things about the people watching you when you're pretty desperate for a distraction."

"Oh that's...." _Nice? Creepy? Understandable? ....yeah, understandable._ Though Cross didn't exactly finish his thoughts aloud as Geno checked Merciful over another time before checking over Marigold's stirring form.

The adults made their ways downstairs with the newborns in tow, thoughts already on the meal ahead. Vaguely, Cross remembered the husbands whispering something about taking the knives away and hiding them. Cross wasn't sure where they would be but... well, he had his own, right? He could manipulate his magic to make the knife something to be found in the kitchen.

Following Geno's direction, he got the child in his hold settled before turning towards where he would be working. The two divided their tasks out wordlessly, and it wasn't until Cross began gathering magic that he realized- "Geno," he murmured. "Do you think the sound'll upset you...? I know seeing it will but..."

Geno paused his whisking the eggs to glance over to Cross' back. That was something he hadn't considered either.

"I... I don't know..." he tried to recall the sounds he was once so accustomed to when it came to cooking. The sizzle of meat being tossed into a skillet, the bubbling of broths and sauces or even just pots full of water, the hiss of steam... and, yeah, there it was: The rapid _chopchopchop_ of gleaming metal meeting wood as he cut through vegetables and other foods. "H-heh, I... guess I forgot chopping actually makes sound..."

"So, will you....?"

 _Chopchopchop..._ now that he was actively thinking about it, the sound was distinct. Sharp, in some ways.... and nothing like the sound of displaced air followed by the hackle-raising sound of metal scraping against bone.

"...I'll... be fine..." he whispered, hand pressed over the very center of his scar. Well aware that his small, wavering voice was far from convincing, Geno cleared his throat and tried again just to find himself stuck on very first syllable when his hand slid higher, instinctively seeking the comfort of worn cloth in his grasp. _Idiot,_ he scolded himself, forcing his attention back on the bowl of eggs. _You... you know its gone..._

Slowly, his gaze turned towards the stove. The flame.

_Papyrus didn't have a face suited for sneering, yet the hatred that bled into his expression settled in as easily as any of his usual smiles. "You burned your bridges, **'brother.'** I'm merely here to do the same."_

The sharp scent of fresh onions reached Geno. Behind him, Cross could be heard chopping away.

 _H-heh, damn onions..._ he thought, head bowed as he completed his own preparation for breakfast. _They always make me cry._

_Because of course it was just the onions..._

———

Breakfast was made fairly quickly, and, thanks to Cross, the dishes were almost done by the time the others joined them. Geno had made sure to set out drinks for everyone and was currently fussing over the babies, trying to determine if they were hungry yet or not.

The elder kids took their seats by Geno and Error, looking glum that Ink and Reaper weren't at the table. Dream made sure to sit next to Paperjam, smiling to himself when Spright did the same with Goth. It wasn't much but... well, Dream didn't want the two to feel the absence too much today, if he could help it. _They'll be back, they'll be back._

Spright's sockets widened at the beautifully crafted omelets. "Ah! .....egg taco pancakes?" he tried to joke.

Somehow, it actually made Geno crack a smile. "Yeah, something like that. Cross helped."

When every person's eyes drifted to him, Cross felt the inexplicable desire to shortcut into one of the rooms upstairs and hide. "Happy to help," he murmured, dropping into his seat.

Beneath the table, a foot nudged him until he glanced up, cheeks growing warm at the soft smile Dream sent his way. "Thank you," the golden eyed skeleton mouthed.

 _It was nothing,_ Cross tried to convey through his own awkward smile and shrug. "U-uh, sorry if some of the food is mushy... I... got kind of carried away with the chopping..." Unfortunately, he hadn’t known at the time that that could affect some of the textures.

Sharp, gilded eyelights tore away from Cross, landing on the colorful skeleton across from him just as Spright spoke, his expression surprisingly bright for someone currently filled with such frigid hate. "Aw, don't worry about it, brah." Smiling cheerfully, he cut into the omelet and spoke around the flavorable piece. "I mean..."

Error's sockets narrowed in warning. _Spright, don't you fucking-_

"...ruinin' things is whatcha do, ain't it?" the survivor finished sweetly. "Can ya pass me the bacon?"

Just as Error opened his mouth to reprimand his brother, Dream cut in, "That was pretty rude, Spright."

"Didn't know sayin' the obvious was rude."

Dream's eyelights narrowed into what looked like slits. "He was under orders."

"Well, ain't like we chat or anything."

"Maybe it's because you've been hostile this whole time?" Dream and Error synchronized.

Spright's smile fell just slightly, hidden eyelights glancing uncertainly between the both of them. "...Seriously? You want me ta be buddy-buddy with-?"

"Can we do this _after_ breakfast?" Geno whispered.

The three glanced his way, then dropped their gazes to their plates like scolded children. "Sorry," they chorused, all resorting to a different name for the glitch.

"Sorry!" Goth chirped, merely wanting to be included.

Feeling left out, Paperjam glanced around before echoing their brother. "Sorry, daddy!"

Error frowned slightly, knowing by the way that Paperjam was looking to Geno that the father in this scenario wasn't him. He... wasn't upset, just still unused to the fact that his eldest was going around calling _everyone_ daddy now. It was something he meant to address for a few days now, but he was constantly getting distracted from the topic. _It's not like it's bad or anything..._

It was just _really_ fucking confusing with a relationship like theirs.

And with Ink not there to talk to about it after breakfast... He sighed and tried to distract himself on purpose this time, by checking in on Cross.

Who was keeping his gaze down on his plate as he cut into the omelet. Error watched him silently eat up the food, though noticed how his Rookie kept pace with everyone else.

After some more silence, Spright murmured, "But seriously, can I have some bacon?"

Geno was the one who passed it to him.


	8. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ink and Reaper have a meeting to attend. Yay.

It would be a lie to say that Ink had no expectations of what awaited them when he and Reaper stepped through a portal into Reap- The First World because, well, he had a quite a few expectations. A grand, golden hall, leading up to a throne room carved from the finest stone and adorned with gems... a lone figure upon the throne, mighty yet hunched with anxiety... _Resignation,_ perhaps. His darling Dream did say that his own meeting with Asgore went poorly, after all.

And yet, none of his expectations were met as they appeared in the other world.

"Heh, not what you were expecting?" Reaper asked, smile fitted awkwardly onto his expression. At least he wasn't on his knees, apologizing to Lord Creativity for whatever detour they seemed to be taking. "Sorry, I..." he shrugged, tense. "It's been a while. Asgore is a pretty chill guy- oh, you... probably know that... A-anyways, he's nice and all, but... well, I haven't slacked off this long in literal ages." And he wasn't looking forward to the looks he knew he would get when he returned. Not from the king, but from the court even Asgore himself could never seem to control. "I like to give myself a few minutes before jumping into the chaos."

"Where are we?" Ink asked, unintentionally rolling over everything just said. He barely waited for Reaper to finish before asking, curiosity drawn out by the little house they were in. Old, a little dusty... but somehow warm despite the clear lack of use. _Cozy._ "I've never seen this."

The god shrugged, the motion stiff but still... progress. "I can't imagine you ever had reason to visit a mere godling's hom- I was looking for that!" Reaper exclaimed, rushing over to a web-covered sofa and lifting a dusty robe that looked no different than the one he wore now. "I knew I was missing one!"

Distracted, Ink tried to picture himself in long, flowing robes; white with the barest hint of tan, as if he were adorn in long rolls of canvas. Of course they often ended up soiled by paint, but... they used to be regal. Kingly almost, though he was no such thing.

_"Now, let's do away with these robes, hm? I think I'd much prefer you in silks, my love." He grit his teeth as his chin was caught, a tug forcing him to meet those warped emeralds. "Or... perhaps you'd be better off dressed in nothing at all?"_

Shuddering, he opened his eyes, distantly wondering when he even shut them to begin with. "Reapsy, do you mind waiting a little longer?" he asked, knowing very well that the god was relieved for the excuse to linger. "I... think I want to make myself some clothing." Something... freeing, but layered.

Protective against leering eyes.

"It won't take long, promise."

Reaper glanced at him curiously, hesitant. Always, always, always so hesitant now. "Do you want me to wait in another room...?"

 _NO!_ "No," the empath said calmly, smiling. Luckily, there was no way for Reaper to sense the chaos within him: Fear and concern and a protectiveness so intense that Ink nearly mistook it for rage. _I don't want to be alone,_ he admitted to himself and only himself, _but I want **you** alone even less._

Ink turned away as he pulled out a sketchbook, hiding the way his expression dropped into something colder as he opened himself up, feeling out separate lines of color that spoke of the connections he had with his dear ones. _Geno, Dream..._ One with Reaper, established when he sifted through the god's memory. Another with Error. _I need to make some with the children._ And one last one with-

Mentally, everything stilled. Outwardly, Ink continued to go through the motions of creation, needing little thought to simply sit there and _make._

Five connections total, Ink counted, naming them again.

_Geno._

_Dream._

_Reaper._

_Error…_

His lead snapped.

_And **N e g a t i v i t y.**_

Reaper glanced over when his husband's motions paused completely, no signs of movement as of the moment. "....I-Ink...?"

"Yeah?" he murmured, clicking his pencil a few times before continuing his sketch.

"Is everything okay?"

"Eh, we'll see won't we?" Ink shot him a smile before finishing up the final details of his sketch. "Perfect." He let his pencil disappear and focused on the magic surrounding his Broomy, locked away safely in the Doodle Sphere. Soon, the paintbrush formed in his hand, and within moments, he'd swiped the sketch into being.

Reaper's jaw dropped, staring in awe as Ink adorned himself with an off-white, nearly cream garment. Well, mostly cream. The bottom of the shirt and the sleeve openings looked as though they were dipped in a rainbow that changed as it encircled the openings. He tied off the robe with a rope somehow reminiscent of both his own scarf and the ropes adorning Reaper's own robes. Speaking of his scarf, Ink made sure it covered Red's collar before tucking it into the robes and making sure the whole outfit appeared to flow.

And flow it did, because it took a few tries for Reaper to finally hear when Ink called out to him. "I-it... it looks.... fantastic...."

 _This truly is Lord Creativity..._ Reaper couldn't help but think. Any doubts that he might've had, no matter how small, were well and truly erased in that moment. Slowly, the elder god of death began to daydream of the eldest Primordial crafting a world just for their family-

"I'm not sure what you're thinking," Ink began, "But I don't think I've recovered so much of my own powers for it yet."

Embarrassed, Reaper quickly looked away. "A-are you ready, my lo-ooove....?"

 _Horrible save, but cute nonetheless._ Ink chuckled slightly, panic and terror hidden behind a smile no less adoring for all that it's purpose was to hide his little truths. "How romantic," he teased, offering the god his hand.

Reaper flushed, amazing Ink by just how lovely the soft cyan hue was when it wasn't born from humiliation. _My poor little bird, made to be that bastard's pet..._ an ode to position he himself once held. A joke he remained blind to, thus prolonging his god's suffering.

"It's... probably best we don't show up holding hands..."

 _Longing, love... resignation._ The artist frowned, hand still outstretched in a gesture that looked so silly with no movement on Reaper's end to take up the offer. "You're my husband." _A burst of joy as bright as Posi's sunshine smile._ "Is there a reason why we shouldn't hold hands?"

_Uncertainty._

"Is it... because of who I am?" Ah, he didn't need his abilities to read that expression. Frown deepening, Ink dropped his arm and stepped forward. "You're not lesser than me, Reaper. Not you, or Error, or anyone else. My status, my very being, doesn't change the love I have for you, or the fact that you were able to fall in love with the man so many never see beyond the face of Creativity."

His words seemed to ease Reaper, and yet tension remained. "You've... had a long absence. Longer than my own, obviously. I... Ink, the last thing you need is a clear connection to me."

"I know many think of me as dead. Perhaps they've blamed you or Respite?" It wasn't speculation, but something Ink was certain of the moment the words were free. "I don't want to hide the love I have for the lot of you. And that _includes_ you, Reaps." Ink smiled slightly, catching his gaze before he could look away again. "I'm proud to be your husband. I'm proud of our children- _our_ children, honey. If anything, I'd prefer you to stand next to me than with the others."

 _Next to...? N-next to Creativity...??_ If his eyelights were lit, Ink felt sure the god would've shown stars.

To be gone too quickly. "I don't want to cause more problems than I already will be by showing my face here after so long..."

Ink stepped slightly closer, curling his pinkies around Reaper's fingers. "You're not a burden, Reaper. You're my husband. You're my equal. I gave a piece of myself to you when we married before all this bullshit happened. Any problems that arise will be the fault of those who deemed it necessary to erase myself and Dream from their records. Not because of you."

This time, there was no hesitation in Reaper's movements as he stepped closer, leaning up to press his grin to Ink's with a small yet honest smile. "...I love you..." _You know that, right?_

And although Ink had his abilities to fall back on, he knew that he wouldn't have needed them to realize the truth in Reaper's words. His love went beyond the soft pinks of his colors, filling the voids of his eyes with a gentle affection and finding it's way into the god's smile, his soft touch as he laced their hands together, his... everything, really.

"You're amazing," Ink breathed, words whispered into their kiss. Neither wanted to move away. _You've been shunned by others since your creation, and yet you love with your entire being._ Reaper could have fallen into the trap of hatred, but he didn't. Instead, he held onto the kindness others called a myth and replaced all the pain he was made to endure with their affection. _Centuries younger, yet millennia wiser than that fool. Kinder than_ he _ever could have hoped to be._

Unable to help himself, Ink snorted, effectively ruining their little moment. _How ironic._ To think that his own creation failed so spectacularly whereas the creature not crafted by his brush turned out to be everything he ever wanted in Negativity; everything the twisted primordial was meant to be. _Kind, yet embracing of the darker duties that must be performed._

Reaper blinked up at him, a curious tilt to his head. "Sorry," Ink murmured instead of explaining himself. He pressed closer to kiss him again, sinking into the sensation as best he could. Trying to not think about the other gods or anything else. Trying to ignore his own thoughts...

And yet, it was the god in his arms that pulled away and braved a smile. "We should get this over with so we can go back home, yeah?"

 _Home..._ a magical word and place for the both of them. Again. the Primordial felt his thoughts wandering. Hoping with every bone in his body that he can make sure it stayed a magical place for their growing family.

A place to keep that other connection out of...

"Right..." Ink sighed, pouting at him. "Yeah, I guess we should be responsible. Or something." Which earned a little laugh from the god. _Stars, how long has it been since I've heard you laugh...? Even if it weren't so grand as a prank gone right...?_ He laced their fingers together and murmured, "I love you too, Reaps."

The cyan on his cheeks was as pretty as the pinks within his SOUL.

———

If rainbows were predictable, fancy things after a rainstorm, perhaps what was more predictable was the way they managed to vanish without much warning. Unfortunately, Reaper's blush was much the same as a natural rainbow, _sans_ the extra colors. Ink wasn't sure when it had faded, but the next time he had a chance to check was when they were at the doors to the castle, and the blush certainly wasn't there. The pinks? Thankfully, yes, those were still around. But they were clouded over by nerves at essentially seeing his boss again.

Surprisingly, it was Reaper who opened the doors and walked through first. His back stayed straight and his limp hardly noticeable to those who didn't know there was something wrong. Ink made sure to keep his expressions hidden as he followed in after his husband. A few of the newer, minor support gods froze at the sight of them, quickly shut up and backed away. Reaper barely spared them a glance, his gaze upon the doorway.

They paused outside the doors leading into Asgore's throne room. A small sign hovered over the handles stating that a meeting was in session. "Like old times, huh?" Ink's smile was more a little formal thing than one of any kind of joy.

Reaper didn't answer.

He glanced to observe the God of Death for a moment before turning away. "Prepare yourself." _Was he talking to Reaper or himself?_ Either way, Ink pushed the doors open and stepped through. Amused to watch the gods in the court fall silent, a few standing in alarm at the new presences. Judging from their colors... well, it appeared that only Asgore and Toriel recognized Ink. The rest stared silently at the two. In confusion of Ink and in barely concealed scorn of Reaper.

"...Heya," Reaper greeted, smile strong as surprise melded into disgust. His colors told a different story however, and Ink's sockets narrowed slightly at the sight of muted colors seeming so much like scars. Clearly, Reaper was used to all this. "Miss me?"

"Sans," Asgore sighed, and Ink nearly startled. That... that was Reaper's real name, wasn't it? Well, one of his many true names, at least. "I... see that you decided to return," a brief glance at Ink, "...with company. And late."

"Heh, yeah..."

Silence. Stiff, awkward silence, so thick that it was palpable. _Is it because of me? Because of Reaper?_ Frowning, the empath glanced around. All eyes were on Reaper. Staring. No... glaring, as if he were some nuisance to be scorned and bullied away. _Tch, fools... the lot of them._

"No greeting for me, old friend?"

Asgore's eyes flickered to Ink. And stayed.

"Lord Creativity. Welcome back."

The nod, the King sent to the artist was much more a bow than anything else. And somehow, the rest of the gods picked up on that. Asgore never lowered his gaze for anyone, except for Toriel and Gaster.

And for all of the gods to bear witness to Asgore showing such a display of respect, short of a true bow, to Ink. To the one they viewed as the brainless, emotionless protector of the multiverse. The shock and weary colors that rose within near everyone in the room...

It made Ink smile.

"Asgore. Surely you know of the reason behind Reaper's and my own tardiness?"

He dropped his gaze, though Ink was impressed that he managed to keep his shoulders straight. "I do."

Smiling blandly, Ink hummed in acknowledgment, thoughtful. Snidely, some may have thought. "Ah, and yet you still choose to scold him...? Tell me, _old friend..."_ Head tilted, the artist smiled wider, questioning, "What gives you the right to treat my husband as a child?"

A chair fell to the ground with a loud, echoing clatter as a member of the court shot to his feet, glaring. "Who do you think you are?!" he demanded, lips pulled back in a snarl. "You... You _dare_ question the actions of the king? He-"

"I don't care what you have to say." Ink interrupted, tone flat with boredom. "In all honesty, I don't even know who you are. Are you new, little godling? Or are you merely so insignificant that I forgot your existence?"

"Ink!" Reaper hissed, not necessarily appalled by his husband's behavior, yet far from feeling at ease. "It's fine, Lo- It's fine, Inky. Asgore doesn't mean anything by-"

"Would it be fine if someone claimed that Geno was at fault for his absence?" Ink interrupted yet again, turning to his husband with a soft expression at odds with the fire in his gaze. "If someone tried to make Geno feel bad for the... _break_ he went on, would you stand by? What if it was Ru? _Me?_ Would you truly stand off to the side and do nothing?" Catching himself when his voice began to raise, Ink paused to take a deep breath. "...Reaper," he began, softer. Kinder. "You matter no less than the others, and being used to such... _shitty_ behavior doesn't mean that you ought to sit through it. What took place was no fault of your own..." Slowly, Ink slide his gaze back to the others. "And I’ll _not_ accept anyone claiming otherwise."

 _That's low._ Reaper frowned.

 _I know._ But he wasn't backing down now. And judging by the weary grey colors of the elder gods contrasting starkly with the bright, spiking variations of rage and fear in the younger gods, Ink suspected that the truth wasn't out. Not fully anyway.

"For those of you in this court with not a single clue as to who I am, I suppose I'll tell you. My name is Ink, a Star Protector of the Multiverse. My name is _also_ Lord Creativity, the _original maker_ of this Multiverse. I don't care that you don't know me," _lie,_ "or that your rude behaviors have come from a place of ignorance," _lie,_ "But I will not tolerate you bullying him any longer." He fixed Asgore with his gaze. "Or letting others run your court from the shadows."

Again that brave, foolish godling snapped, "So you're going to take over?"

His smile widened slightly at the thought. Though his worries were on his family, and his desire was to spend time with them, protecting them, serving them, the thought of ruling this place again.... well, it was an interesting thought. Rally the gods against Negativity. Try to wipe him out now. _Now,_ before the twins grew up.

The corners of his eyes tightened slightly. There was a reason he left the court to Asgore. Two, actually. He didn't want to be tied to a place that argued with itself so often, and he didn't want Negativity taking over.

 _Look how much good that did them now... He's already got his tendrils seeping through the crevasses._ Ink's gaze wandered over each of the gods present, absently feeling the connections within himself-

He tensed-

"I would love to take over."


	9. Waiting Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cross has been waiting a long time for dreams he never thought he could achieve to finally come true, but he's willing to wait just a little bit longer if it means helping Error out.

Error found Cross sitting on the front steps, staring out at the yard with an empty expression on his face. He frowned and settled down next to him, watching his eyelights barely glance to him before continuing to stare off into the unknown. "So... that's your brother, huh...?"

"Spright's been through some shit. He's wrong to blame you for what happened to us, but yours is the face he saw when... well, he saw you take us, so he's blaming you. Even though he won't sit still long enough to let us explain." Error frowned resting an arm on his shoulder. "Cross... give him time. And if he needs it, space. But don't be afraid to get out of his way if he threatens you. Just..."

"I won't hurt him, Teach..." Cross murmured. "I'm just..." he dropped his gaze. "I don't belong here. I don't belong in this house with you. I... I barely-"

Error turned towards him. "You deserved to get out."

Cross shook his head, once. "So did Horror and Killer... and Endure."

 _Debatable,_ Error thought, reluctant to let go of his bitterness. "Maybe, but them being stuck there doesn't make you deserve freedom any less." Voice lowering, Error averted his gaze; nervous. "For what it's worth... I think you belong here more than you realize. I... I think you... fit."

Cross watched him, unsure. "Error, your own kid watches me like I'm-"

"New. Jam, he- uh, they... they're a pretty outgoing kid, but they're shyer than they appear. They're smart, too. You're new and Spright doesn't like you, so they're not sure what to do. That'll change though, I mean...." Error thought, recalling a memory he was sad to realize seemed so old now. Not faded, just... aged. "Believe it or not, they looked at the tiny winged abomination the same way they're looking at you now. Uh, Goth, I mean."

Doubtful, Cross frowned. "From what I've seen, those who are attached to the hip." Literally, for a while. Thankfully, the glue incident was over and done with.

"Yeah, they are. _Now._ When they first met though, the two were awkward as shit. Goth cried through half the play-date because, well, he was a fucking baby. Toddler? Same shit. Either way, Jam thought he was some sort of alien and wouldn't go near him until Ink bribed him with a pack of crayons."

"...Are you telling me to _bribe_ your kids?"

"No." Error nodded, then grinned when the contrasting answers got a laugh out of Cross. "Just... give the baby brat some time. They're... adjusting."

_"Papa?" Paperjam whispered, tucked close to his side after a nightmare. "You... you're not gonna go away again, right?"_

_"I'm not going anywhere, baby abomination."_

_"Even... even once I wake up? You'll be here after I open my eyes?"_

_Error heard what they really wanted to ask: You're not just a pleasant dream?_

"...They just need time," he whispered, mind far away.

"I might need time too," Cross admitted. "Even with the... adjustments the others need to take.... stars, I forget how _bright_ everything is out here. And without the castle's magic pressing down on us constantly..." Cross dropped his gaze. "It's odd... I almost expected your husband's magic to be pressing in on us now. Ink's, I mean. Or... what was the-"

"It's just Ink," Error grumbled, suddenly irritable. "That damned idiot... why does he think going with Reaper is going to help anything? Honestly, he has these sudden memories for only a few weeks and thinks it's a great idea to burst in on the gods? ...Whatever it is those gods even do."

"They're supposed to keep balances throughout the multiverse," Cross sighed. "Remember? You were captured by one of them one time and came back with your eyelights spinning and nonsense dribbling from your mouth for a whole week? That's why you tried to not go back."

The destroyer scowled slightly more, though he didn't speak.

Cross glanced up to him, studying him for a moment. "You're worried about him. But you're scared of him too."

"I'm not!" Error snapped, far too quickly. Too angrily.

Cross shook his head. "You are. I may be the one struggling now, but you've never liked change, Error. Not when it sneaks up on you."

It didn't show in his... work, but Error was a planner; meticulous in ways that most would ever understand. He liked having a plan in mind and the more information he had to formulate that plan, the better. Cross wasn't sure what his reasons for this were, if he even had any, but he knew that Error took to drawing up plans the same way he tackled his crafts: Carefully, and with precise detail. If he had to guess, Cross would say that both comforted the destroyer in their own ways. Toss in a surprise though, and...

"You were sure that you knew everything about him, and that's... not true. And now you feel like you're lost, or... or off balance. You're..." _Afraid._

"...I know my own damn husband..." Error argued weakly, twitching fingers hidden in his pockets. "I- I know... I... there's nOthing to... to bE afraid of. It's just... InK."

"It's Ink and... more."

"JuST Ink...!" Error trembled slightly. He couldn't take the thought of the 'more' that they both knew of. He couldn't take it... He...

_Rainbow kaleidoscopes. They held too many colors and emotions, though once they settled on his family, they softened to shades of pink, and a smile creased the lower lids upwards. "Error..."_

"I-I'm not..." Error whispered. "I'm not scared of him...."

And while that wasn't necessarily the truth, it wasn't too deep of an lie, either. There was fear, yes, but more than there was... _betrayal._ Hurt. Ink was some great primordial, and so was...

_Nightmare._

"...I thought I knew him..." Error whispered, symbols interchangeable for emeralds in his mind. "I... I thought..."

_"N...Nighty? I, uh," clearing his throat, Error straightened. Somehow, the confident stance only worsened his nerves that much more. "...Before I go on this mission, I want- I want to tell you something." And before Nightmare could respond, he continued. Speed was the only way to hang onto what little confidence he had left. "I think- no, I know it. I... I love you." As the silence went on, his fingers began to twitch. "Do... do you ...?"_

_"Do I love you?"_

"I thought I _knew_ him," he repeated, voice wavering beneath the weight of his sorrow.

_"Y-you heard me, idiot. I said... I said I... I love you... Fucker."_

Closing his eyes against the memory, Error exhaled a shaky sigh and rubbed at wet eyes with a trembling hand. Briefly, he wondered when he began to cry. "Whatever Ink is, this... primordial bullshit? He... he's the same as him. And that's-" he laughed brokenly. "It's like the fucking multiverse is playing a joke on me. And I'm not f-fucking laughing, Cross."

A new voice drifted through Error's mind.

_"I don't.... I don't really know, Ru. I like you, I think? I know I like talking to you. And fighting. And you have the cutest expression when you're pretending to be angry. I think that's stuff I like about you. I don't know about love..." it seemed like the artist's mind was wondering again, though he clenched a hand around the pink vial and suddenly grinned up at him. "I don't love you, Error. But I want to. You know?"_

_That.... that asshole...!_ Error teared up more and hid his face in his hands. _I don't know what to think...! What to feel...!_

_"I don't love you," as close as they were, the glow of a green gaze shown upon Error's surprised face. "Nobody will love you, my little destroyer. You're not meant for such soft emotion, after all. "_

_Stop..._ he silently begged. _Stop showing me these...!_

_His shapes suddenly took on a teardrop and a question mark shape, both colored in blue. "I.... but Error, I want to love you. I.... I **do** love you...! I see you, and all I want is to drink all the pink in the world to show you just how much I love you...!"_

"Error..." Cross' voice broke through. "Breathe with me, teach. We'll talk to him when he gets back, yeah...? I think... I really think you and Ink have waited long enough for this. Two weeks.... it's such a short amount of time to be free, but it's a long time to avoid the one you love."

Slowly, Error met his gaze. "I...if two weeks is... i-is a long time, th..then six years is an e-eternity, isn't it?"

Despite the lavender glowing on his cheeks, Cross kept his expression firm. "You and Ink need to talk. We can deal with me and my own shit after."

"....Tch." Shoulders curling, Error huffed and shoved his hands back into his pockets. "S-so, you he... h-helped with breakfast, h-huh?"

Cross frowned. "Error, that has to be the shittiest attempt at a change in conversation you ever tried to pull. At least lead into it first." The destroyer stared. "...Yeah, I helped. Your brother- uh, Geno... he looked like he needed it." Like he needed a friend. "Look, Teach, I know talking is a lot less fun when it's about your own problems, but-"

"Ink... I-Ink isn't e-even here right now!"

"But he'll come back home eventually, and when he does? You shouldn't run, or hide, or do that thing you do where you're there physically but your thoughts are far away. You- this bridge between you needs to be fixed."

Error scowled, snapping, "Why the fuck do you even care so much?!" Cross may have been his- just his, but why was he so obsessed with getting Error to-

"Because..." the other skeleton began, nervous. A little shy, perhaps. "...Six years really was an eternity, and... and I'd feel a lot better about making up for all that time if it didn't feel so much like I was being used as a rebound."

Error flinched. Hard. "I'm n-not-!"

...

_But I am, aren't I...?_

Frowning, emotions inside even more twisted, he studied Cross' fidgeting and thought about it. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'll talk to him when he's back."

Cross stared at him in surprise. _That was... surprisingly easy..._ "...What's the catch?"

"The fuck? What catch?! I'll talk to Ink! There _is_ no catch!" He turned away, dropping his head on his knees with an angry expression. "Stupid cow-phobe."

The guard smiled a little. _You'll thank me later._

...Hopefully. 


	10. Of Emeralds and Crowns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which someone makes it very clear that he's aiming for another crown.

Like blood spilling across a battleground, crimson crept into Ink's gaze. A blink, and then he was gone; cutting through the distance separating him from the smiling skeleton hidden within the shadows. "You-!" he began, the rest of his words coming out as a low, rumbling growl that shook the room like thunder. _You fucking-_

Fingertips blackened, growing wet with his mortal namesake as an ebony blade formed over his hand. "How dare you!" Viciously, he swiped through the air, burning gaze boring into the fiend's chest. _I should have done this ages ago-!_

Ink stilled.

And Negativity smiled, a tendril dangling the warped half of Geno's SOUL a hair away from the elder primordial's deadly blade. "Go on," he purred, pressing the glimmering piece closer until the finest line split the precious thing open. A thin cut, and yet... painful, echoes of violets bursting at the other end of his connection with Geno. "Cut through the little glitch's SOUL to get to my own, _Lord Creativity._ Show the others just how merciless the one who claims to protect their realm and others are. Here, I'll make it easier."

Calmly, Negativity wrapped his hand around the blade. Emerald blood glimmered as it dripped down his forearm, but the smiling skeleton didn't so much as flinch. Instead, he smiled wider and pulled it closer to himself.

Another burst of distant pain.

With a start, Ink jerked back and watched the black sword splash onto golden tile as it lost it's shape. "You're not welcome here, Negativity." Those were the words he settled on, but far from what he truly wanted to say. They had an audience though, and Ink- Cree had no desire to perform for the curious eyes watching them, as eager for drama as they were answers. "Leave."

"Leave?" Inspecting the SOUL, the emerald eyed skeleton hummed. Then, he ran his tongue across the thin wound; groaning at the fine taste of torment. "No, I don't think I will. Besides, you have no power here anymore, Ink."

"That's Lord Creativity to you," he hissed. "And I suppose that's your doing."

"Ah, you're very welcome." They met gazes, much to Ink's barely controlled rage. Even more infuriating was the smirk that grew upon the other's face.

Unlike when Ink and Reaper showed up, the gods knew of Negativity. The white that flared to life would've blinded Ink, had he not been used to it from the castle. _Two weeks... two fucking weeks we saw nothing of him. Why's he here now?_ The gods backed away from Negativity and Ink, though not too far. They didn't want to miss a moment of this live drama.

"So," Negativity slid his poisonous gaze to Asgore, tickled to see the God King with his gaze averted respectfully from his own as well. "What say you, Fluffybuns? I think you've done all you could for your court, and though you've done a good enough job keeping them together, it's time for we Primordials to take our rightful places again."

Asgore frowned, thought dared not raise his eyes. "Forgive me, but you and Lord Positivity were never in the leading position. It was Lord Creativity who-"

"Ruined things here first?"

Ink scowled more. "I'll not hear that from the man who tortured my family for nearly a year-"

"Oh, but weren't you the one that allowed it, Inky?" Negativity turned his gaze back upon the artist with a smile that could be mistaken for kind. "After all, if you're this Lord Creativity you're suddenly bragging about, where's your power? Where's your class? You're not resolved to lead our gods in the state you're in now. Hell," _is he fucking **pouting**...?!_ "you attacked me without allowing me a chance to explain myself. You're setting quite an interesting precedent for yourself."

 _You bastard..._ Ink closed his mouth, watching him guardedly. _How...? How are you constantly a step ahead...?_

With a showy little motion, Negativity hide Geno's fragment of a SOUL yet again. When he spoke, it was not Ink he addressed, but the court as a whole.

"For years, you've trembled at my feet, fearful of displeasing me. And oh, how smart you all were to do so, but do you now know of the true threat to you all? Do you see the manner in which _Lord_ Creativity treats those below him? Today, it's mere threats. Who's to say that it won't be followed by action, or worse?" Amused, the emerald eyed skeleton motioned to Reaper. "Followed by _Death?"_

Reaper dropped his gaze, the anklet latched around him burning as hot as the shame within him. _I knew it..._ This wasn't how he expected it to happen, but he knew his connection to Ink would be used against the artist.

"You-" Ink began with a snarl.

Emeralds shined brighter, and the artist swore he felt the leather around his neck tighten. "It's my turn to speak, _M'lord."_ Stepping forward, Negativity brushed passed Ink to better address their captive audience. "Creatures such as Lord Creativity are unpredictable. Trust in him, and you'll never know of what it'll earn you. Praise? Power? ...Suffering? Tell me, please, what becomes of those who displease me?"

Silence.

Negativity raised a brow. "Is a demonstration in order?"

"...D...death..." A nervous young god whispered.

"Ah, there we go. Very good," the self-proclaimed king praised. "Those who fail me are punished. Severely. And yet, you know of this. Fiendish as I am, am I not dependable? Displease me? You die. Do well, however, and you'll be rewarded. Am I not such a simpler man than Lord Creativity?" Gaze so very, very bright, Negativity purred, "I'm not kind, little gods, but you can trust in my cruelty. What of this stranger," he motioned to Ink, "can you trust in? Who would you rather risk your lives attempting to please?"

"We can rely on him as the protector," a soft, near musical voice spoke up. Every eye turned to Queen Toriel, Goddess of Life.

"Oh?" Negativity murmured.

Unlike her husband, Toriel stared straight at Negativity without fear. "You cannot have death without life. Just as you cannot have fear without hope."

It was only the millennia of memories returned that Ink could read Negativity's expression then. _Interest. Annoyance. The beginnings of anger._ "And you would lead instead?"

"Yeah," she smiled calmly. Sure of herself. "You cannot kill me, Lord Negativity. See, you need me, just as the rest of the multiverse needs me. After all, there's only two here that can foster new life through magic. And you are not one of them."

Eons seemed to pass in the silence that followed the goddess' words, but what did the passage of time matter to a room full of gods, and more?

Finally, Negativity spoke, offering a single, calm word:

"Yet," he murmured, bowing mockingly at the _Queen_ before turning to Ink, smiling. Always, always fucking smiling, as if he were actually capable of joy. "Goodbye for now, Lord Creativity. Do think of me until we next meet."

 _Like hell-_ Ink grit his teeth, glaring at the shadows that lingered after Negativity's exit. "...I'll return, Asgore. Lady Toriel. Later, and with Lord Positivity in tow so that we may discuss what took place. Until then, _Lord_ Death and I shall take our leave."

"...I'm afraid I need to speak to Sa- to Lord Death _now,"_ Asgore murmured, weariness carved into his expression with lines of born of stress. The king was ancient, and yet he never quite looked as such until now. "His brother has done well in his absence, but one Deathling was never enough to maintain the work Lord Death was... _coaxed_ into abandoning. He must return to performing his duties. Today."

A hand slid into his own before the artist could snap at the king. "I will," Reaper promised, his own exhaustion hidden behind a grin. "Heh, no need to look so _grim,_ Asgore. That's my job. Literally."

That got a small smile from Asgore. He turned towards the rest of the court and murmured, "Get some rest everyone. We'll continue our discussion tomorrow. Queen Toriel, if you and Lords Death and Creativity will stay a while longer?"

Undyne and Alphys hovered too, with the former narrowing her eyes upon her King. "Are we going to war with _Negativity?_ Do you think it wise-"

"Lady Undyne, you have been dismissed. We will talk at a later date. Lady Alphys, you as well." Asgore's gaze was tired, though he spoke firmly, it wasn't an order.

And yet, the love the two goddesses had for their King had them obeying him as such. "Very well..." the Goddess of War murmured and quietly, the two left.

Reaper faced Asgore, gaze flicking to the Queen before murmuring a, "Heya Tori."

"Sans," stars why did her voice sound so sad? "Are you doing okay?"

"....not really," he admitted, looking to Asgore again. "But I know I must continue my duties."

"Good."

Ink narrowed his gaze. "Are we not going to discuss Negativity threatening to take your position as King?" He hissed.

Asgore frowned slightly. "We can, if you want to discuss nearly killing another in the middle of a meeting."

"I didn't think he'd bring Geno's SOUL half out-"

"I meant _him,_ Lord Creativity," Asgore frowned, a rare show of strength in his words.

Him? Him, who was-

Ink froze, staring at Asgore with an incredulous expression. "...Surely you don't mean _Negativity?"_ Silence, a firm gaze. "You do. You... have these last few centuries turned you _senile?!"_

"Although your reasons are understandable and your title allows you many passes, I cannot accept such behavior in my court, Lord Creativity. Not even against one such as Lord Negativity."

"He's a murderer!" Ink shouted, voice echoing within the meeting hall. "He-"

"Is beyond even I, the King of The Gods, in status. By your own laws, The Three are to be treated with the upmost respect. As such, Lord Negativity is protected by our laws." Guessing at what his old friend's response was going to be, Asgore raised a silencing hand. "I understand your anger, but even you must realize that changing this now does you no favors. Lord Negativity has a silver tongue to go with those emerald eyes of his. He'll twist anything we attempt to change in his favor."

In other words, they were fucked. Helpless.

"...Everyone was familiar with him." Reaper murmured, shifting in place as he felt the tension over their heads thicken. "No one seemed familiar with Ink, but... they all knew Negativity. All of them..." The god glanced around, hesitant. "...but me. Why?"

"He came when you lot were in his castle. He spoke to us. To the court. Offering to help them get stronger or to allow them territories of their own. All he asked was some loyalty in the end. A loyalty to him, for when the time is right. I suspect the time is soon."

Ink cringed harder, realizing just how big a mistake it was to be here. Perhaps being here now didn't matter? Perhaps it was the moment _Lord Creativity_ set foot in the courtroom again that Negativity would strike?

"He could have kept us for so much longer," Reaper whispered.

"What do you mean?" Ink frowned at him. "He could've taken over this world whenever he wanted-"

"No.... no he couldn't.... he needed you and Lord Posi back." Reaper was trembling. He wasn't entirely sure what he was saying, but he felt the words to be true. Or as close to the truth as they could get for not understanding fully what Negativity wanted. "He... he's _obsessed...."_

"I know that-"

"No.... no I don't think any of us really know how obsessed he is. But all of this...? Ink, it's _you._ He's punishing you. _Us._ He wants you to _break._ Completely. Because that's the only thing worse than me, isn't it...?" Reaper tried for a smile. The white encasing his heart hid it from Ink.

_Emeralds shined brighter, and the artist swore he felt the leather around his neck tighten._

He lifted a hand now to his scarf, feeling the collar beneath and tucking a finger between it and his bones. _Yeah... it's tighter..._ "Punishments..." a low growl sounded from his throat. "Those are my duty..."

Reaper studied Ink for a moment longer before nodding to Asgore. "I'll continue reaping today."

"Reap-"

"Ink," Reaper sighed. "I... I really do need to work. Regardless of the danger of returning to my duties so soon after... everything, I _need_ to go back. The last thing we need is more problems."

"You're not-"

"I've gone seven months without working," the god interjected, frowning. "I... Ink, it's already causing _me_ problems. I hear things," he admitted, "Ticking, and it's constant. My head aches, I'm always tired... I really do have to go." Quieter, in a mere whisper, he uttered something else.

Ink frowned, straining to hear. "...Reaper...?"

A little louder, the god murmured, "If I'm experiencing some sort of strange withdrawal because I haven't worked, then that means that... I don't know, actually. It can't be good though, Ink. My mind or body or _something_ is telling me that I need to continue performing my duties." Anxious, he met the primordial's gaze. "Ink, I..."

"You're...?" The empath coaxed.

"I'm afraid of what'll happen if I don't work."

_I'm afraid of what I might do._


	11. One on One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Error and Ink finally talk things out.

Error wasn't the only one waiting for Ink and Reaper to come home, though the other Primordial wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to talk to Ink about. Or if it was Reaper he wished to speak to. When the artist returned, both straightened, though neither Error nor Dream were surprised to see Ink return by himself. Still, they were weary.

"He's back to work already," came the moody words that served as a greeting.

 _Something happened,_ both guardian and destroyer thought, exchanging looks. "Ink-" they both began, just to stop and share another glance. _Who should...?_

"Ink-" Dream tried, hesitant.

Unfortunately, Error did the same, calling, "Squid-"

Again, the two stopped and stared. "U-uh, you go first," they said, together. "No, you-"

A little amused, the artist the two were struggling to greet chuckled. "Is there any food left...? I think I want to eat after checking on the twins."

"Yeah," Dream and Error chorused, now frowning.

"Good. Well, I'm going to go do... that. Join me downstairs in a bit?" Ink suggested, offering the two a moment to talk things out before addressing him. He thought their little accidental routine was cute, but... well, he knew his husbands-

_Husbands._

"Oh gods," Ink whispered.

He set a neutral expression on his face by the time they both glanced back to him. It was only by Dream's gifts was he able to discern something was wrong, though when he opened his mouth to inquire, the artist had already descended the stairs.

"Something's up," Error grumbled, narrowed sockets on the stairs.

"Yeah..."

The two slowly met gazes, though Error was the first to glance away. "Tch. It's probably some old geezer bullshit. You should talk to him."

Dream smiled slightly, despite the troubled thoughts in his mind. "I... I'm not sure... but Error, you've been sulking twice as much since he left this morning. You should talk to him first. I don't really know what I have to say to him yet."

 _Me either..._ though that wasn't about to stop the destroyer. Not when he so clearly had the upper hand in this. "Sure."

With an encouraging smile, the guardian retreated back to his room as Error made his way downstairs. Finding Ink was easy, thankfully. After checking on the kids, the idiot took a shortcut and was seated at the table with a plate of leftovers, pretending like he was fine. _Isn't that all what we're doing though?_ Error wondered, ignoring the artist for now as he pulled chocolate milk from the fridge. They all smiled, laughed... but how much of it was honest? What was genuine emotion and what an act for the children they all left behind?

"So," he began, carton of milk in hand as he sat, "Cree."

"...Creativity, actually." Smile in place, the artist shoveled a spoonful of hash browns into his mouth. Without swallowing, he continued to speak around the mouthful. "You can keep calling me Ink though, Ru. It feels like I've been an Ink longer than I've been Cree, anyways." _I gained so much more as Ink than I ever thought I would have wanted._

Error watched him, silent. Both pretended that his fingers weren't twitching around the milk. "What's the difference?"

"Well, I guess there really isn't-"

"No," the destroyer interrupted, scowling. "I... tell me the difference, Cree. Tell me... tell me about the parts of you that never showed in Ink, or... or a secret, or- just tell me _something,_ damnit." Knowing that his request was still too vague, Error growled. He hated this. Being... honest. About this... definitely not a fear. Betrayal. Whatever the fuck you wanted to call the way he felt when he looked at- "Ink, just... tell me that the person I love isn't just some lie. Tell me remembering who you are didn't... didn't k-kill the person I _thought_ I married..."

_And please, stars please, don't let whatever you say be a lie._

Ink's expression smoothed to something nearly unreadable. _He's thinking... but fuck- why does it have to look so similar to Neg-_ Error growled, "Just talk," he demanded, fingers digging into the carton.

"You didn't marry a lie," Ink began, setting his fork down. He crossed his fingers and leaned on the table, studying the pattern of the wood rather than Error's face. He could still sense and see the lingering colors from his husband, and didn't feel strong enough to directly watch them fluctuate with his words. "There's too many differences between myself as Cree and as Ink and yet... there's nothing different at all. Heh... well maybe aside from the memory issues. For better or worse, those seem to be fixed..."

"So you can remember shit now. Great."

The small grin Ink had faded slightly as he pondered Error's nervous sarcasm. He didn't seem fully sated with the idea that Ink hasn't changed. "Error... I know things feel different because I have more than one name. And I know the only way to prove that I'm still me is through my actions. Sure, I could go for hours about how I haven't changed, but you're still going to pick up on the little nuances that I wouldn't have even noticed for myself.

"Right now... 'Cree' is the me that created the primordials and the gods and the multiverse. Cree is the me that got this whole system established to become self-reliant. Worlds could be created and destroyed spontaneously, without my help. Those people who would be born into the new worlds wouldn't have had my influence directly on them, but another's. Everyone was and continues to be free to make their own decisions, regardless of how.... _poorly_ they chose." Error knew they were both thinking of Negativity. "Basically, Cree is the business side of me."

Before the destroyer could mention it, Ink continued. "The me that is _Ink_ however... a soulless self-proclaimed protector? Well, I came _centuries_ after Cree. I sacrificed my SOUL as Cree to try and help Negativity. And all it earned the three of us was memory loss and a second chance. Well, _you_ know I believe in second chances," Ink smiled fondly at him. "Second and third and-"

 _"Fiftieth_ for some stupid fucking reason," Error's grip loosened slightly as he watched Ink, a small smile on his face. If it hadn't been for Ink and his incessant desire to pull Error out of the nightmares... well, he'd probably still be a nightmare.

"Yeah... there's good in everyone. Good and bad. Right and wrong. A bunch of grey stuff too, but... well, with the right amount of faith, anyone can choose to be good. That's something in me that hasn't changed. Of course, I'm not the best poster boy for goodness. I never have been..." Now, the artist looked troubled. He twiddled his thumbs in thought before murmuring, "I'm as capable as any other to flip sides, but I'm also as capable of standing firm in my beliefs."

Error's small smile didn't drop, but it twisted, changing into something halfway between a smile and a grimace. "...I.... I know you're still you, Inky," he admitted, gaze lowering as he tried to think of what he wanted to say. "I know that, I just-"

"See Negativity's shadow looming over me."

His gaze dropped. "...Yeah," he rasped, shuddering.

Negativity wasn't the name he came to fear, but knowing that it was the true identity of the person who tormented him for years... that was enough to bring back the terror. Years and years of fear that he tried so hard to forget in the five of freedom he was allowed to have.

"Error, I understand your concern, but... I'm _not_ Negativity. Even-" Ink frowned, chest aching at a past that seemed so recent. "...In all honesty, even Negativity isn't... well, Negativity. Not the person he originated as, at least."

"...What do you mean...?"

Wearily, Ink leaned back in his chair and tried to count the little imperfections in their ceiling. "He carved the good from his SOUL. Literally cut it out of himself. Anything he thought would weaken him, which _did_ weaken him... well, if he's weakened, it won't be because of anything within himself."

"But Dream can feel anger without it hurting him, right?"

"Mostly. He gets angry, and it _does_ affect him, but he lets it go. Negativity... he clung to everything. Still does, actually. But Dream isn't going to carve out the bad in himself. How else would he enjoy when things are good again?" Ink sat up more and met Error's gaze. "Negativity was meant to take the 'bad' feelings from others who were struggling, and guide them towards Positivity and a better life."

With that, the two fell quiet for a moment. Error sipped from his carton and Ink nibbled at his now cold hashbrowns. Now, Ink studied Error's colors. Lots of contemplation, some understanding, much less fear even though apprehension remained. _Nothing I can do about that now..._

"You know," Error finally murmured, "I think this is the most you've talked to me in one sitting where shit actually made sense. And was cohesive."

Ink chuckled, a little sheepish. "I... even as Cree, I was never the most organized." He motioned to the robes he wore; light and airy. Stained. "No matter how hard I try, I end up smudged in ink or paint, or... well, one time I got absolutely slathered in honey, but I still don't understand how that happened."

_"Honey?"_

"It's... a long story," Ink mumbled, cheeks warm with a familiar multi-color blushed.

Error paused, glancing down at Ink's plate and his own carton of milk. He had barely sipped any of it. "...I have time," he decided, slowly lifting his gaze to meet Ink's. "...If _you_ do, that is."

At that, Ink cracked a smile. _Time, huh?_ "...For _you,_ Ru?" Slowly, he reached out. When Error didn't flinch away from the hand curling around his own, the empath's smile grew. "For you," he repeated, "I have all the time in the world, hon."

In that moment, Error's smile was the perfect distraction from the distress weighing Ink down.


	12. Life and Deaf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno has to make a decision between two things he fears.

When Geno picked up his slumbering daughter in search of a distraction, she began to wail.

The jump from peaceful dreaming to shriek-like crying was so sudden that the glitch nearly dropped her, his heart pounding as he rushed to secure a better hold on the small, distraught child. "Sh... shhh... it's o-okay, it's-" Something sharp seemed to press deeper into his chest, and Geno whimpered. He braved on however, seeking to soothe his little girl rather than pay any attention to the searing pain beneath his sternum. "Shhh, shhh... it's okay, b-baby. No... n-nothing is going to h-hurt you..."

_I... it hurts... i-it hurts...!_

"Geno?"  
  
Swallowing down a sob of _painconfusionterror,_ the glitch glanced up with a wavering smile that passed as worry. "C-Cross, did... did she bother you...?" he asked, rocking Merciful in hopes of calming her down. _She already ate, and she was changed..._ he grit his teeth against the pain, knowing that if he himself began to cry, Cross would suspect; would _know_ that something was wrong with him. Geno didn't want that though. He... he was tired of being the weak one. The pathetic, sobbing-

Suddenly, the pain eased. He could see feel the agony of having his soul split, but... it wasn't as bad. Mangeable in comparison to everything else he once faced.

"Um," his attention returned to Cross, "do you... want help? I c-can try holding her...?"

Merci was still crying, but it was starting to calm down a bit. That was... good. Nice. "If... if you'd like to? I wanted to check on Mari, so..." 

"I got her then!" Stepping forward, Cross... definitely hesitated, but reached to take the youngest of the two twins into his hold. When Geno passed her over however, he frowned. "Geno, are you... okay? Your hands are shaking-"

"I'm f-fine, just... her crying startled me." Quickly turning towards the crib to hide his guilty expression, Geno smiled shakily. "O-oh, you're awake, honey. Did your little sister pull you from your dreams?" Cooing with a wavering voice, he gently pulled Marigold into his arms and checked for any signs of distress. "You don't seem upset... aw, are you my b-brave little boy then? Did you hear your sister crying and decide you wanted to check u-up on her?" Smile a little stronger, he decided to risk facing Cross so that Marigold could peer at Merciful. "There she is!"

Smiling a bit, Cross held the girl in his arms and watched as Geno continued to speak to his youngest son. For the most part, it was little things like 'I love you. You're going to grow up and be so strong. I'll make sure of it.' But his voice was so soft that it was nearly just a rumble to Cross.

Though his attention was more on the child. Marigold. He didn't seem to be responding at all.

Cross frowned a little. In contrast, Merci's full attention was on her mother as she spoke, sockets wide with those cute, dizzying turquoise spirals in her sockets. Briefly, Cross wondered if she had vision problems. She certainly didn't seem to have any hearing issues, unlike her brother.

"Geno?" Cross asked, earning the glitch's immediate attention. "We... we should call Sci over. To check up on their healths. I don't think-"

"They're fine...!" Geno insisted. "Merci's wheezing is only when she gets overexcited!"

"But Marigold doesn't respond often..."

The glitch hesitated, having spent more than enough time with his children to know that there was truth in Cross' statement. "...I... I've been hoping that..."

"It was just a fluke?"

"Yeah," Geno whispered, ashamed. "I m-mean, some of it seemed... normal? Gothy was a bit of a brat when he was a baby, you know? He used to ignore Reaper and I all the time when he was grumpy. I... I thought that maybe Mari was just the same..."

Given how sweet Goth seemed, Geno's claim was a little hard to believe. Well, it would have been hard to put his faith in if Cross hadn't been treated to a front row seat of a few of the five year old's tantrums. He had some serious lungs on him for a skeleton. "But Marigold doesn't look at you even when he seems happy."

Tears burned at Geno's eyes, frustrating him. He was so, so tired of crying; tired of feeling as if he only ever toed the dangerous edge of a cliff instead of ever getting away from it. _I should be better by now, damnit._ "...No, he doesn't."

The twins each had their own cribs now, but they still slept side-by-side with one crib pressed up against the other. They seemed happier this way, but Merci was prone to waking up at all odd hours of the night in a fit of tears for various reason. When she cried, it usually woke up everyone on the second floor.

Everyone but Marigold, that was.

"...Do... do you think he's... deaf...?" Geno whispered, hating to finally give voice to one of his fears.

"Yeah, I think he might be..." Cross murmured. Watching Geno's expression crumple had him blurting, "But it isn't your fault! I'm... not really versed in..." there was a long pause as he glanced between the babies. It had taken the couple weeks of freedom for him to finally figure out how to hold the infants correctly, though he still preferred holding Merci. Just in case. "I'm not real versed in kids or anything but... I don't think you're at fault? I kinda wish I had a parent like you, Geno. You're there for them, even though it's hard, and it's... really cool."

It was sweet of him to say so, and yet Geno couldn't push past his worry over Marigold to smile at Cross. To know for sure if Mar was deaf, they'd need someone qualified to run tests. And to get him help, they'd need someone qualified. Both those people were likely Sci, or someone Sci knew, but...

 _Strangers... more strangers in my home or near my kids..._ Those thoughts had anxiety pulsing through Geno's body, making his palms sweaty. He settled himself back in bed to rest Mar in his lap. _What procedures would even work for an infant? Oh gods, an **infant**... would they need to do surgery on him? What if he-?_

"I recognize that expression," Cross sighed, taking the few steps to sit next to Geno. "You're overthinking something aren't you? Ya know, even though you and Error aren't _actually_ related, you have a lot of similar microexpressions."

Geno mustered up a weak laugh. If anything, it was more a puff of air. "The first time we all went out as... as brothers, Spry had one too many drinks." Not that he could talk, considering that 'one too many' for himself was usually anything more than a sip. "He spent the entire evening trying to convince Error and I that we were the same person."

Cross blinked, momentarily side tracked. "Really?"

"Yeah," Geno nodded, "It was... actually a little scary just how logical he made it seem. Or maybe it was just the alcohol that made it seem reasonable? I don't know... Error and I got it in our heads that he was right though. Heh, we ended up-" Blanching, the glitched stopped there. That was one secret that was never meant to see the light of day. "A-anyways, sometimes I think there's still a part of Spry that thinks Error and I really are the same, or related. He gets this really intense look on his face whenever Error and I unintentionally say the same thing."

"Huh."

"Yeah..."

"...Geno, you don't need to distract me, you know? If... if you don't want to talk about Marigold-"

Feeling guilty that his attempt was so obvious, the glitch shook his head. "I just... I'm worried, Cross. My sign language is a little rusty, but I can... I can freshen it up, if I need to. I don't... I don't want to _have_ to, though. Not because Marigold is... underdeveloped." Underdeveloped, not broken. Marigold didn't need to suffer any stigma just because Geno couldn't keep him safe. "...What... what if they check him, and there's other things wrong? What if it isn't just his hearing, but... but his breathing? His magic levels? _All of him?"_

"Wouldn't it be better to know now? To get help now? Before things potentially worsen?"

The glitch blinked and stared at Cross. "...spoken like you've had kids before..."

Sheepishly, Cross murmured, "I read a lot," as a way of explanation.

He still felt anxious about the idea of bringing in Sci again, or more strangers, but... _I can endure this.... I can, for my kids..._ A shudder ran through him, and he held his littlest closer. _I **have** endured worse for them... getting them help... I need to do this._ "Okay..." Geno murmured. "I want to talk to the others about it... get Merciful some help with her breathing too... but talk with them first."

Cross nodded. "A good idea."

Hesitantly, the glitch glanced up at Cross. He wasn't ready to acknowledge the warm that steadily grew within him with every encounter around the other, taller skeleton, but... that didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy Cross' friendship. Assuming that they were friends, even.

Nervously, he got the other's attention, mumbling, "If... if you're free, would you... maybe be there too? During the appointment, I mean?"

"M-me?" A little startled, the once-second glanced around the room as if ensuring that no one else had wandering in during their conversation. It was just him and Geno though. And the twins, of course. "You... if you ask them, the others will be more than happy to be there for y- the twins, Geno."

"I... I know..." As the fathers, there was no questioning the fact that Reaper and I-Ink would join him for the twins appointments. "Still, if you're free..."

"...I'll be here," Cross promised.


	13. Daddy Material

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which TK chose the title and Gold wasn't sure if it was a joke or not but liked it anyways. Oh yeah, and skeleton stuff happens, too.

By the time Reaper made it home, everyone was at the dining table, halfway through their dinner. Thankfully, being late didn’t mean he was forgotten. Entering the kitchen first, he made his way to the microwave where, as he expected, a neatly wrapped plate awaited him.

“Thank you,” he called out into the dining room, checking to see how warm the food was before heading off to join the others. Tired but feeling well, he smiled. “I’m back.”

A tense silence greeted him, and Reaper paused. Slowly, his smile waned until he stood there with a small, uncertain curve of hesitant joy as his gaze jumped around. At his entrance, everyone looked a little tense, but he knew that was just the wariness that came about whenever anyone returned alone. _Is it really him?_ He knew the others were thinking. Geno seemed especially nervous, but his worry eased once Ink and Dream gave the group a subtle nod and returned the god’s earlier grin with ones of their own. 

“Welcome home, Reaps,” the glitch greeted quietly.

If anything, the air grew even heavier at that. _Shit, something happened._ Something with Geno, if the looks being thrown his way were anything to go off of. “Heh, thanks, babe.” Drifting over, Reaper took his usually seat and casually glanced across the table to Ink.

 _He’s hiding something,_ Ink’s worried and small, upset frown said. 

From his own seat, Dream sighed and shook his head. _We shouldn’t push too hard._

Quietly enjoying his meal, Geno very pointedly did not meet anyone’s gaze. _I’m completely innocent and have never done any wrong,_ he seemed to be saying. Bullshit.

Before Reaper could say anything however, Goth decided that he was fed up with the silence and chirped to get everyone’s attention. “Daddy! Daddy, you didn’t give me hello kissies! You’re supposed to give me hello kissies! And then you sit down and go,” his high voice deepened in a mockery of his father’s voice. “Mm, this looks very good ma- _Gen_ and daddy- I mean, Crossy. I love you lots, muwah!”

By now, the sight was familiar, but Reaper still found himself surprised and intrigued by the cute lavender color gracing Cross' face. "Daddy Crossy?” he teased.

Goth scowled. “He’s _my_ daddy Crossy and your Crossy!”

“Oh?” Reaper winked at Cross, taking pleasure in the way that pretty hue darkened into a deep violet. “Shame, daddy didn’t sound too bad.”

Error grumbled something that had Ink bust up laughing immediately. Probably something to do with 'being _my_ daddy', if Reaper had to guess. 

“The kissies, daddy! The kissies!”

Tense air forgotten, Reaper chuckled and obediently stood from his seat. With a smile, he went around and pressed kisses first to Geno, then Goth, and so on. When he got to Cross however, the god paused. Teasing aside, this… wasn’t really something any of them discussed. Would a kiss be okay? Even if it was playful?

Hesitantly, Reaper met Cross’ eyes. His sockets looked… wider than usual. Panicked. It made him look… endearing, and the god softened. Deciding to take pity on the poor man, he took up Cross’ hand instead and made a dramatic show of bowing like some gentlemanly prince. To amp up the humor, Reaper gave an exaggerated wink before brushing his teeth over Cross’ knuckles. It was barely even a kiss, really. And yet…

Violet darkened further into a near black and Cross ducked his head, flustered.

 _Cute_ , Reaper thought, shameless of his appreciation for the sweet sight. He went to share the complement, but a question from Ink distracted him, though he initially missed it. “Sorry, can you say that again, Inky?”

"Was anyone mean to you?" Ink repeated.

Reaper cringed, expression cycling through multiple interesting looks before settling on a playful pout. "Inky, if you're trying to be my daddy, then you're... kind of missing the sexy mark. Asking if anyone was mean to me makes it sound like I'm a preschooler." The slight mention of school had Geno looking twitchy, so the god plastered on a grin and quickly added onto his statement, trilling seductively, "I can remind you just how big I am, hon."

Ink's smile was amused, but his eyes were narrowed. "That isn't a no, _baby."_

"Well, _daddy,_ it isn't a yes, either."

Spright cringed, mumbling something about how such innocent words shouldn't need censoring. Seated next to him, Respite sighed and continued eating, eyes on his plate as if the stir-fry was the most interesting thing to have ever been witnessed by the younger death. "These carrots are the perfect size, Cross."

"U-uh, thanks..." Sweating slightly under Spright's sudden glare, the black and white clad skeleton offered a nervous smile. "It's, uh, all in the motion of the wrist?"

Dream sighed, cheeks warming instinctively as four sets of emotions warmed. "Ink, leave Reaper alone. He isn't a godling, okay? If someone is causing trouble, I'm sure he can handle it on his own. And if he _can't?"_ Golden orbs landed on Reaper, intense. "Then we'll trust him to come to us for help. Understood?"

"Yes, _Mommy,"_ both skeletons in question purred.

_"-can I have honey buns now, please? I-"_

"Not until after dinner," Dream said, missing the confused looks shot his way as he eyed his mug. His coffee was almost gone, but he promised Geno he would only have one cup for dinner. _Maybe I can sneak one for dessert...?_

_Ah, if I say it's **chocolate milk** then surely there won't be a problem-?_

"Wow Dream," Reaper chuckled, curiously watching him. "I didn't realize you missed us that much!"

Dream blinked up at him. "What do you mean?"

Even Error raised a brow that time. "It almost sounded like you just made threesome plans with Inkhead and Reaps after dinner."

His sockets widened and a blush exploded across his face. He stuttered uncertainly and stared between Ink and Reaper, who both had wolf-like grins on their faces. "We don't mind at all!" Reaper chirped.

"If you're willing!" Ink added with a smirk.

"N-no! No f-filthy talk at the table, damnit! One of the kids mentioned honey buns and I just-"

"No we didn't?" PJ stared in confusion.

Even Goth looked lost. "Honey buns? What's that?"

Dream faltered, glancing between them. "I..."

"...A memory?" Ink suggested, suddenly serious in the face of primordial business. "Honey has always been one of your favorite flavors though, not mine."

A little concerned by the confusion starting to make Dream look so distressed, Reaper drifted closer and put a bit of his weight on the guardian's chair. Arms crossed over the back, he kicked his legs up behind himself until he was lounging lazily, supported by nothing but magic and air. "Mm, I wouldn't mind you licking honey off of my-"

"Reaps," Geno sighed, peering into the crib the twins were tucked away in. Maybe having them was a little excessive, but he felt safer with the two in something they couldn't squirm out of when it came to setting them down in the kitchen. Not that they did much squirming at such a young age. "Please don't teach the kids anymore filth."

"Sorry, Gen." Lowering his voice, the god murmured to Dream and Dream alone, "My offer still remains though, Sunstar."

Dream managed a smile up at him, though his thoughts remained around that slip. Honey... That's certainly something he hasn't had in a while. Honey... _in coffee,_ because his mind wouldn't let him forget the sheer amount he'd consumed in their absence. "I'll.... think about it," Dream murmured.

That was certainly good enough for Reaper, who pressed a kiss to his head and wandered into the kitchen for his food. The artist forced his gaze away from his companion to continue eating. His thoughts were on the slip. _I'll ask after dinner_ , he thought to himself.

Reaper got himself settled into his spot and Geno hesitantly murmured, "Cross and I... think that Marigold might be deaf..."

When the god choked, alarmed, Geno winced. _I... probably should have let him swallow first…_

"You think Mari...?" Stars, Reaper didn't even want to finish. Marigold, deaf? Their little bundle of bones who was months away from having to be weaned off his mother's milk? That... that was.... "Are you sure?" he asked worriedly, desperately trying to recall an instance in which this would have shown itself. Like Geno, he ended up thinking back to all the nights the eldest twin slept through his sister's crying, peaceful. "Stars..."

"That... makes a lot of sense," Ink said, frowning. Geno always seemed more comfortable with him holding Merci since she was so much stronger than her brother, but... yeah, the more he thought back to the way Marigold interacted with his mother, the more evidence he found himself collecting. "Have you tried testing this, just to be sure...?"

Miserable, Geno nodded and pushed away from the table to make his way over to the crib. Drooling all over her hand, Merciful blinked up at him with a cheerful gurgle that had him smiling and sparing a moment to stroke her little cheek. Pleased, the youngest of all the children gurgled again, smiling around her fingers even as her mother moved his attention to Marigold, picking the snoozing infant up.

"W-watch," Geno murmured, holding Marigold close with one arm in order to keep the other free. With a simple motion, he snapped three times next to the infant's head, loudly. When the little bundle didn't so much as twitch in his sleep, Geno tried calling his name. No answer, not until Geno's worried frown was practically pressed against the little skull, though that could have just been the sensation of teeth brushing over his head that had Marigold squirming awake with a sob. "S-sorry, honey. Mommy's sorry."

In response, Merciful burst into tears and reached for her brother. Everyone at the table exchanged glances. Ink narrowed his sockets slightly at Merci's apparent reaction to her brother. True, Mar was upset, but that came from being startled awake. And yet, she appeared to-

"S-so..." Geno murmured once Mar calmed down enough. "I think we should have them looked at... just to... to be sure."

"Will you be okay, Gen?" Dream asked worriedly, frowning. Everyone knew of Geno's... aversion to strangers now.

"My kids are more important," he spoke firmly, glancing to them with a nod. "This is the right thing to do."

Error nodded slowly in agreement. "Better sooner than later."

The artist brightened. "We can all learn a new language! Or relearn it? But still! It would be like a family thing!"

Throughout their time together, or apart, Geno had been uncertain about Ink. If he were honest, he still was. But that moment... those words paired with the stars in his eyes. _We're going to be alright…_

In spite of the tears still in her eyes, Merciful smiled.

It matched Geno's perfectly.


	14. Sweet, Sweet Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dream and Ink talk, yay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content Warnings:** This chapter gets a little warm in a sexy way, though it's not all that intense. Just a small warning, folks!

Although almost everyone finished their meal before Reaper, no one left the table following dinner. Instead, the adults remained seated as they waited for the god to finish up, murmuring among themselves about Marigold's newly revealed condition while Paperjam and Goth, bored but reluctant to leave, switched between climbing all over their parents and playing tag around the adults. Eventually, it was decided that Dream would contact Sci first thing in the morning, giving Geno the night to prepare himself, though no one specifically mentioned this little fact out loud. Not when it was so clear the glitch wasn't pleased with his own fears.

"I can put off heading to work, Gen," Reaper insisted, the few hours he had under his belt more than enough to ease the pain in his skull. "I want to be there, honey. This is important."

Ink nodded in agreement. "Me too."

"And me!" Paperjam chimed in, giggling when Error hefted them up onto his lap with a grunt.

 _Stars, they're getting so big... "You_ are going to go take a bath before bed, brat. And stop smirking over there, bird brat. You're getting one after your sibling."

"Sister!" Paperjam whined, lifting her arm to show the ribbon tied around her wrist as a makeshift bracelet. "I'm a girl, daddy!"

"I thought you felt like neither earlier?"

"Cause I was stuck! But I'm a girl now! A girl!"

"...Do you want the pink pajamas?" Error asked, feeling a little hopeless.

Goth squawked, offended. "Those are _mine,_ daddy Error! Jammy doesn't like dresses unless it's warm! And it's cold right now!"

Glancing between the two, Error frowned. "...Well then, why don't you both head upstairs and show me which outfits are for who, then?"

"Okay!"

Dream chuckled, "I think I'm going to excuse myself now, too."

Ink hesitated for a moment, just for Error to nudge him on the way up. "Go talk to him," he grumbled. "You've been avoiding him as much as you were avoiding me."

"I wasn't avoiding...!" Ink hissed, embarrassed.

The doubt was clear on Error's face, though he still leaned in and pressed a kiss to his idiot's skull. At PJ's yelling, he smiled a little. "Alright, alright I'm comin'." And he wandered up the stairs.

Reaper and Cross turned towards Geno to help him get the twins settled while Spright and Respite exchanged quiet words and excused themselves to clean up in the kitchen. Ink stared after Dream's back, uncertain of where to even begin, though just as the golden guardian stepped into the living room, Ink stood and chased after him.

Honestly, there was so much the two had to talk about. So much and yet so little. When Ink grabbed hold of Dream's hand, he teleported them out and back into the Doodle Sphere to murmur, "We were married, weren't we...?"

"...Oh," Dream mumbled, awkward. "You remember."

"Y... yeah..." After a long, tense pause, the elder of the two primordial creatures frowned. "Are you... unhappy? To be married to me, I mean? I... really can't blame you if you are, but-"

"I'm not unhappy, you idiot," The golden eyed skeleton sighed. "It's just... well, it complicates things, don't you think? I'm not blind, Ink. I know that whatever you talked about finally put Error at ease, but... that's just _Error._ Geno is still tense around _both_ of us when we're alone with him, and while Reaper is obviously trying his best, he still gets nervous here and there when he says something 'out of line.' And that's all just in regards to us being who we are. You're all still healing, remember? And the children are adjusting to having you back, too. Coming out and... and telling everyone that we're _married?_ No one needs that stress right now, Ink. Not if-"

Dream blinked, and in the milisecond it took to reopen his eyes, Ink was there in space; leaning in. "We don't have to tell anyone if you're not ready, Posipaws," the artist whispered, forehead pressed against the shorter skeleton's and smile skimming Dream's with every word. "But, I... I don't want to ignore this. Shit, I know it'll cause problems, I do, and it may upset... well, probably Error most of all, but... you're my husband, Pos. My-"

"First," Dream finished, gaze flickering as sorrow and joy fought over the brightness of his eyes. "Ink, Error is going to be crushed when he realizes this. There is no "may" or "might." He... Cree, it's going to hurt him, and so soon after finally having some of his worries soothed. I don't want to do that to him. I... I _can't."_

Ink paused, stepping back slightly. _Dream's right_. Of _course_ he was right... but... "Error's also my first," Ink murmured. "In a bunch of different ways, if not sexually." Hesitation curled his shoulders inwards a bit as memories were slow to filter in. "But he deserves to know..." Frowning a little, Ink met his gaze again. "We... separated though... didn't we?"

An unusual flare of malice made it's way across Dream's face. Thankfully, it was gone quickly, replaced with a tired, "Negativity," as the explanation.

Memories tickled the artist's mind, though pranced away before he could grasp at them. He knew Dream was right with this too, but... the details eluded him. Probably, they were painful details, after Ink had already bared his SOUL to Error. _He deserves to know. So do the others._

 _Gods, but he just learned of this himself!_ Frustration had Ink backing off and pacing in the kitchen space of the Doodle Sphere house. _Their_ house, Ink realized. The house looked vastly different from those centuries before, but the general energy was the same. A last resort safe haven for the family. Distantly, Ink thought about convincing that huge family of his to move in here.

 _Spright was glaring at Cross throughout dinner..._ No... it won't work unless everyone could control themselves...

"Dream," Ink murmured. "You've... been struggling. With one of your memories. It's like the memory wants to be known, but you've become your own roadblock for it, right?"

"Y...yeah... how did you-?"

"It was the same for me with this stuff," he explained, motioning between them.

Pulling a face, the guardian sighed and let himself slump down on a nearby chair. "...I don't even notice it most of the time. I'll... hear something, or... or I'll remember something? I guess it's kind of both... Either way, I just... respond. Unthinkingly, as though it's-"

"Instinct?"

"Yeah," Dream nodded, "I never even realize that I'm responding to memories until someone snaps me out of it. And then it's just... gone. Sometimes instantly, sometimes after only a few seconds." Frustrated, he dropped his head back and stared up at the seemingly endless ceiling of their once-home. "...I feel like I'm missing a part of myself, Ink. I know it's because my memories haven't settled in yet, but... it eats at me, sometimes. There's a hole somewhere in my SOUL-"

They both cringed.

"...Bad metaphor, sorry."

"It's fine..." Ink murmured. They knew it wasn't. But what else could they do?

"A-anyway.... I don't... I just don't know."

Ink nodded, thinking back. "Well... over dinner, you mentioned that the kids said something about honey buns?"

 _Something_ stirred in the very back of Dream's skull, but whatever memory was trying to form was gone before he could even muster up the hope of grabbing it. "I... thought they did. It's like you said though, Ink. I had a really big fondness for sweets back in the day, honey flavored things in particular. For all I know, it was just a memory about me being hungry."

"Or horny?" The artist suggested, smiling faintly.

A golden glare was sent his way, though it did nothing to distract from the matching blush warming Dream's cheeks, slowly creeping across the rest of his face. "We both know I wasn't bold enough back then to outright suggest sex."

"I don't know, hon. It's a little fuzzy, but I remember seeing a lot of gold. And I'm not talking about your eyes or that pretty blush, either." Eyeing said dusting of color, Ink hummed. Halfway through, it transitioned into a low, seductive purr. "I think I remember just how far that blush spreads..."

"Ink, I love you, but-" Dream faltered, embarrassed about the outright honesty of the words. "...B-but, there's bigger concerns than satisfying your libido right now..." _and I don't think any of you are actually ready for sex right now._ Even Reaper, arguably the flirtiest, never seemed to put any intent behind his teasing.

At that, the artist fell quiet with a considering expression on his face. "Maybe there was somebody else in your life that enjoyed sweets as much as you did?"

"Somebody..."

Frustratingly enough, all that he could recall were blurry, fading instances in which the very skeleton before would back him up, pressing him into the nearest surface and-

_Gasping, he broke away from the kiss. "C-Cree-" he tried, moaning when the taller skeleton pulled him for another kiss laced with desperation. Stars, he could practically taste the emotion as a talented tongue curled around his own, slick as it pressed and slid- "M-mph...!"_

_This time, Cree was the one to pull away. Goodness, his eyes were so dark. Lustful, wanting..._

_Sad?_

_"I almost forgot the way you taste..." Cree whispered, voice a low, seductive growl. "Sweet, like honey." A hand slid into his robes, dipping low until it found the weeping heat between his thighs. "I want to taste **all** of you again. Please, Posi... **please?"**_

_Trembling with arousal in the face of such open desire, he nodded. Cree wasn't the only one on the verge of forgetting what it felt to share their love as a kiss. Bodily too, if he were honest. "Cree... y-yes, please..." he allowed. Begged. After all this time, he- "I want to feel you inside me."_

_The artist growled, dropping to his knees and drawing his robe open eagerly. "Not until I make sure I'll never forget the taste of your magic again."_

_"Cr- CREE!"_

Shuddering, Dream stilled, slowly relaxing the tense thighs he had pressed together tightly. "S-Somebody who enjoyed sweets as much as me, hm?" he murmured, avoiding Ink's gaze as heated praises came to life in his memories. Crooned compliments, lustful words... _"Stars, you're so sweet. Your taste, your noises... I want more, Pos. I... I **need** more, please."_

"...Dream?" Ink called, dragging the word out warily.

 _His... his voice hasn't changed..._ His thighs pressed together again, shifting just the slightest. Rubbing together needily even as he resists pleasure aged with time, yet still so delicious, like wine. "I... I really need you to just... not talk for a few moments, Ink."

For a moment, Ink wanted to keep talking. To ramble and let his words fill the air between them. If only to get a stark pink reaction from Dream again. _Whatever he's remembering must be pleasant,_ Ink pondered, though he kept an eye on the blues that seemed intermingled with the heated colors.

"We..." Dream began, struggling against the nervous dry mouth he suddenly had. "We.... you came back."

Ink nodded, now cheekily deciding to stay silent.

Dream's brows furrowed together. "...Just for the night. Well, _afternoon,_ but the moment the sun fell..." he fell quiet.

Then slowly, the colors within him bleached. A horrified realization grew in his widening sockets as a hand absently skimmed his stomach.

"Dr-"

"Ink? Dream?" Someone called, and just like that the memory and Dream's horror was gone, replaced by confusion as he glanced up to find Blue standing there with a narrowed-eye Stretch at his side. "When did you...? W-wait, _Ink?!_ INK!"

"B-Blue-" The artist gasped, growing winded when his cheerful protege threw himself at him, hard. Arms came around his waist and squeezed, ensuring that what little air Ink had left to breathe was gone as the tiny skeleton spun him in excitement. "Bl...ue...!"

"You're back! Oh my Stars, you- I can't believe this!"

"Bl...ue...!" Ink tried again, wheezing. Stars, when did the other skeleton get so strong- _Oh gods, he's squeezing even harder now._ "B-Blue, a... air...! Pl... Please...!"

"Air? What do you- o-oh! Sorry!" Carefully setting him down, the youngest Star grinned sheepishly. It didn't take away from the joy in his tearful sockets whatsoever. "I... I'm sorry, Ink. I just... Stars, I missed you. How long have you been back for? _Why didn't anyone tell me?!"_

 _Oh..._ Cringing, Dream finally recalled at least one thing he knew for certain he had forgotten: Telling Blue that Ink was back home, safe and sound. _...Oh, shit... I never told Ink that Stretch and Blue were bunking here..._

Ink's gaze flicked to Stretch, who's orange glare was softened somewhat in relief. For what reason, Ink couldn't tell, though if he had to bet money, it was because Stretch wanted to kick his ass for being gone so long and worrying Blue. Maybe... "We were just adjusting to being home," Ink smiled to Blue softly. "Sorry, it's barely been two weeks-"

 _"Weeks?!"_ he squeaked, gaze darting to Dream with no small amount of annoyance. Annoyance that was gone faster than the snap of two fingers. "Adjusting..." Frowning a little, Blue stared at Ink. "You're... are you doing okay...?"

"I'm better," Ink chuckled weakly. "Better than I was. We all were..."

Blue watched Ink closely, frowning. "...Well, if you're back now, then I suppose Papy and I can return home now. Oh, I'll make you a welcome home kit! I have the recipe for the chocolate Error likes! And I know you're a big fan of my tacos, so I'll make those, too! Do your other husbands have any dietary concerns? Oh, and what about your children? I wouldn't want to-"

"Blue," Ink interrupted gently. "I appreciate the gesture, but... we're fine, okay? We just... it's been a long few months, you know? Gen may not feel comfortable accepting food from a stranger, even if I vouch for you." Pausing, he furrowed his brows in thought. "Then again, if you really do know that chocolate recipe... I'd be nice to order a few batches, if you don't mind?" Blue's baking was so much better than his tacos. "Gen has been having a hard time with the twins and-"

Blue inhaled sharply, echoed by his brother as Stretch dropped an unlit cigarette in surprise.

It took merely a second for Ink to realize his slip. "Ah... yeah, so turns out Geno was pregnant during the whole thing and after the kids were born we were let out...?"

Blue cried, "That sounds worse, now that you've elaborated!! Stars! Is he okay??"

"I doubt any of them are okay, Sans," Stretch grumbled, trying to shake off his own shock at the news. _Twins? Pregnant in the enemy's lair?_ That didn't sound okay to him. He knelt down to pick his cigarette up, fiddling with it before deciding, "I'm gonna go outside for a bit."

Ever the cautious one, Blue called out, "Be careful!!" Which was met with a wave of his brother's hand as he left. The smallest turned his attention back to Dream and Ink. "I'd be happy to bake for them! No charge! Twins. Wowie, they must be so cute!"

At this point, Ink saw himself at a fork in the road. Blue was a friend! Of course he could trust him. And yet... the news about the twins and their health complications should be kept within the family until everyone agreed to discuss it. Not that it should necessarily be discussed with anyone outside the family in the first place. Not unless that person was a medical professional that they sought out.

"They are cute..." Ink finally murmured, distantly.

"...They take after Ink when it comes to their eyes," Dream continued, not wanting Blue's eager smile to fall due to their own awkwardness. "Um, there's a boy and a girl: Marigold and Merciful."

"Cute! Marigold is the girl, I assume?"

The co-leads of the Stars shared a look. _That... would have made sense, wouldn't it?_ Marigolds were flowers, after all. "...Marigold is the boy," Ink corrected, sheepish. "Gen really liked the name, and Mari was the oldest, so... I guess it just kind of ended up being first come, first serve? We... didn't really consider gender or anything when it came to discussing the names."

_Geno chuckled. "You want to name our baby after a flower?"_

_"It makes sense!" Ink protested. "They connect them to Reaper with the use of them and me with the colors!"_

_"And what about connecting our baby to **me**?” Geno pouted._

_Reaper grinned, "You're just as beautiful as a flower, Gen~"_

_Ink nuzzled Geno, smiling, "And marigolds have really pretty colors to them. Passion, curiosity, happiness."_ Colors I used to see from you all the time...  
_"Reds, oranges, and yellows?" Reaper deciphered._

_"The good colors. Pure.... innocent."_

_"Pure huh...?" Geno murmured, absently nuzzling Ink back as he eyed the pronounced curve of his belly. Suddenly, he grinned, "Not sure that's the best name then, Inky. Not if you **and** Reaper spawned them."_

_"Jammy is pure and innocent!"_

_The glitch snorted, "For now."_

_Reaper chuckled. "He got ya there Inky."_

_"Wh-what about **Gothy** huh?! **He's** pure and innocent for now!"_

_Geno grinned at Ink. "Oh, he's definitely going to grow up into an asshole."_

_"Yeah," Reaper agreed, "just look who his mother is- ow! Geno, I'm sorry!"_

_Error watched them with a single socket peeked open from where he rocked in his hammock. "I'm calling it now. That kid is going to be a demon."_

_"Error!"_

_Smirking, the destroyer leaned back in his seat, chest warm with the pleasant mood Geno seemed to be in at the moment. Hopefully, the four of them could hang onto this happiness for a bit. Anything more would be nothing short of a miracle. "What about the other brat? They still need a name too."_

_Geno glanced down at his stomach, acknowledging the souling almost completely hidden behind the first. Would they end up being shy, he wondered? Or maybe this was a sign that the twins would grow up close? Stars, he hoped that was the case...._

_"I... don't really know..." he murmured, resting a hand on his stomach. When two additional hands layered over his own, he smiled. "Something with a 'M' too, I think. I think I'd like the twins to match, even if it's only because of a single letter."_

_"I'll change every one of their diapers if you name them Moo," Error bargained._

_"Oh, fuck off!" The glitch grumbled. Moo? His children weren't cows, damnit. "Reaps? I-Ink, do either of you have ideas?"_

_"...I'm all out of flower names," Ink admitted, sheepish._

_Reaper trilled quietly in thought. "I... can't really think of anything. Uh, something nice though, I think. Something..." he glanced around, frowning. "...something sweet. Kind."_

_Something distant from the hell they all lived._

_"...Merciful," Geno whispered._

Ink echoed the girl's name for Blue, who mulled them both in his mind for a bit before smiling brightly. "That's cute though...." He fell silent with a look far more complex than either Dream or Ink had seen on his face. Easily overtaken by his sudden bouncing. "The moment Geno's okay with me meeting them, you're gonna introduce us right? I, the Magnificent Sans, would be thrilled to meet two new Stars!"

"Woah, I think you're jumping a little too far ahead there Blue-"

"With kind names like Marigold and Merciful, why wouldn't they be Stars?" he asked innocently.

Dream stared Ink down, as the artist considered writing his will should he ever bring it up. And yet... _No,_ he shook his head. They're barely _infants!_ And their check up is tomorrow! Just... "We're taking things one day at a time, Blue."

"Ah. Very wise. Welp! Do you mind if we stay a bit longer here? All my equipment is here, and your oven and stove work shockingly well!"

Relaxing a little, Ink murmured, "Stay as long as you like. And thanks for making sure Stretch smoked outside."

Blue's expression said it all. "He ain't dirtying up this place with his nasty habit if I can help it."

Ink grinned, "Thanks Blue. Really." He paused, eyeing Dream from the corner of his eye. No strange colors, or expressions of confusion. _Whatever memories he was struggling with are gone..._ "Say, Blue?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know how to make honey buns?"


	15. A Pleasant Dream, An Early Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ink has a pleasant moment with a Dream then an early morning.

By the time the two returned home, the house was quiet. _Almost everyone is asleep,_ Ink realized, feeling out the series of colors from upstairs. The only one who was awake was- Oh.

"Posi? Um, Dreamboat?" Ink whispered, following the shorter skeleton into the kitchen with an armful of sweets. Hopefully, everyone would be pleasantly surprised. "You've been bunking with Cross, right?"

"Yeah," the guardian whispered back, "I offered his first night here so that he wouldn't have to be stashed away in the basement, or your studio. He's far from the worst roommate, so I don't mind. Besides, Cross is... sweet. A little shyer than most might expect, but sweet. The company does him good, I think."

"Do you share a bed? Y'know, in order to give him some _really_ good company?" The artist teased, grinning. At the glare shot his way, he raised now free hands in a gesture of goodwill. "How has he been holding up...? I... haven't really thought to seek him out myself, but I know he spends time with Error when I'm not here. He's been keeping Geno company, too."

Dream still put the treats away, storing them in a place that the kiddos would likely not find, before turning back towards Ink. "I don't know..." he answered honestly. "He seems to be okay but sometimes... I don't know, he seems lost?"

"Lost?"

"He sits there and fidgets," Dream murmured.

Ink grinned slightly. "Are you complaining about your roommate?"

"No...! ....Well, I guess I am... I just- I'm not entirely sure how to help him? He doesn't seem to be avoiding anyone except for Spright." Dream sighed in annoyance. "I don't blame him though."

Ink's gaze sharpened. "...You're wary of him. Spright," he clarified. "Did something happen?"

"You've seen the way he glares at-"

"Not between Spright and Cross, hon. I'm asking if something happened between Spright and _you."_ At Dream's expression, the artist frowned. "What did he do?"

"Ink- No, don't cut me off. Listen. " Once he was sure that Ink wouldn't interrupt him, the golden eyed skeleton continued. "Yes, something did happen between Spright and I, but... I don't blame him for that either, okay? And it was nothing serious." Not since everything turned out well enough. "I don't want you being angry at him for my sake, okay? I also don't _need_ you acting like some sort of... guard dog-"

Ink flinched.

_"You know, maybe I should get you one of these in green," Nightmare mused, tracing the white of whatever bone peeked over the worn edges of the collar. "Oh, but that would mean losing this pleasant little reminder of your friend. Perhaps we can dye instead? Well?" He pushed, grinning. "Come now. You may be playing the role of lap dog at the moment, Inky, but I know you can speak."_

The guardian was in front of him quickly, snatching his hands up and murmuring, "Ink? Ink it's just a bad memory. You're out, okay...? You're out..."

"For how long...?" he whispered. Frowning, he shook his head and glared. "You're not getting me distracted. What happened between you and Spright?"

The guardian sighed wearily, watching the artist for the reaction he specifically didn't want to see. "He... got angry. Did you know he could possess others?" Ink's sockets widened with exclamation points springing to life inside. "Yeah. I didn't either. He possessed me and I ate the apple with him..." here he cringed. _Inside?_ That was... technically true, right? It just... it sounded so... wrong... Invasive, like the parasite he had survived.

"How much does he know?" The words were carefully measured. Neutral.

Dream shot him a look, frowning. "...Barely anything, Cree. Getting our memories back? It's a lot even for us, but for a mortal? For someone who never had the room in their mind for these memories to begin with? He doesn't know more than the basics. Glimpses, really."

"So he-"

"And he only knows pieces of what _I've_ seen, Cree." Voice lowering, the guardian dropped his golden gaze. "....We both know _that_ isn't all that much, anyways."

"Posi..."

"It's fine." And it was... mostly. "Look, Error is waiting for you upstairs, okay? Even if he's asleep, he'll appreciate having you there with him. If you still curious about Cross in the morning, seek him out. Chat. But do not, I repeat _do not_ , continue down this path with Spright. He's just a skeleton who really missed his brothers, Cree."

Ink frowned slightly and glanced away, murmuring, "I was simply going to inquire why he's been so rude to Cross..."

"No you weren't. At least, that wasn't the only thing you were planning. I'm an empath too, you idiot."

Impatience flared to life, "I'm not an id-" Ink sighed and turned away. "Goodnight, Dream... I'll seek Cross out tomorrow if you'll let him know?"

The golden one still gave a smile, even as he appeared troubled by Ink's mood change. "That might stress him out, but I'll tell him."

"Thanks..." Ink hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Dream frowned a little, about to ask what was wrong, when the artist turned around and abruptly pulled him into a kiss.

O-oh.

Oh.

 _Oh..._ Sockets fluttering close, Dream raised onto his toes and pressed into the kiss. One second, two... an eon... Time dragged on, slowing as their heads angled and soft sighs mingled into one. "Ink..." he whispered when they parted, as soft as the hue of gold dusting his cheeks.

"Sleep well, Dreamboat," Ink murmured.

And with that, he bade the shorter skeleton goodbye and made his way upstairs.

Legs shaking, Dream stared after the elder primordial with a dazed expression. Part of him yearned to call Ink back, but he ignored it. _Error deserves his attention more, right now._

Speaking of, Ink smiled softly at the peaceful expression Error wore, once he made his way to their room. The expression wavered when a socket cracked open to peer at who was sneaking into the safe little space. Sheepishly, Ink waved and murmured, "Sorry... I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't asleep..."

"Lying to an empath?" he teased, crawling into bed to snuggle Error's head against his chest.

"Keep you fuckers on your toes," came the tired response, though Error wrapped arms around Ink's waist and relaxed in his embrace. "...Ink."

"Yeah...?"

"You... you're going to be honest with all of us... right? You're not going to hide anything away, thinkin' it's gonna protect us?"

"...Heh, and you were worried about not knowing me anymore," Ink chuckled, pressing a kiss to Error's head. "I... I want to promise you that I'll be honest, Error. I do, but... sometimes, I don't even realize that I'm keeping secrets until it blows up in my face." Just look at the last few _centuries._ "I... promise I'll try my best though, Ru. But only if you promise not to hold it against me if I slip?"

"...Tch." Face pressed into the taller skeleton's chest, Error mumbled, "I'll try, squid. Only because I like you so much."

"Aw, just like?"

Error's head tilted back to allow for sleepy eyes to glare up at Ink. "Yes, I married you because I _just_ like you. Idi-" a yawn broke up the insult, and Error grumbled. "Go to sleep. You have a long day tomorrow."

"Do I now?" Ink teased, resting his head on his pillow.

"Yeah..." A bit of shifting and the destroyer was draped across Ink, comfortable. Warm. Kind of like a blanket, actually. "I told Jam you'd teach him how to fly like Reaps."

...

...

...

"Y-you _what-_ Error? Ru? N-nonono, please stop pretending to be asleep, I can't- Ru, _I can't fly!"_

His grin was the only hint that he'd heard the artist, though his colors faded into sleep soon enough. Ink cracked his own smile, softening. "Sweet dreams, Ru..."

———

They certainly received a surprise awakening when PJ burst in screeching, "DADDY CROSS SAID I COULD COME IN!!" before bouncing on the bed. "Wake up! Wake up!! Can we go to the park? Pretty please? Gothy and Daddy Reaper and Uncle Ressy are all flying today, so can we go somewhere too please? Mama and First Daddy and Daddy Cross?"

"We really need to figure out this whole 'daddy' thing," Error grumbled, face buried in Ink's back. He wasn't sure when he became the big spoon, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining. "Jam, baby abomination, what time is it? Is the sun up?"

"...Yes."

 _I know that tone._ His brat was lying. Badly. "Jam."

"Daddy Cross is up, first daddy! And me too! _After_ sleeping, so that means that it's morning 'cause I went to bed and had dreams! Not the daddy kind, just regular ones."

Not the daddy kind of dreams? Stars, he hoped so. "Ink," Error nudged the artist, "wake up. Your brat says it’s morning."

Smiling to himself, Ink murmured, "Before sunrise, they're _your_ brat."

"No! I'm both of yours all the time!" they pouted.

Cross chuckled in the doorway awkwardly. "Paperjam wanted to see the sun rise in the park but..."

_I didn't feel right taking them by myself._

The unspoken thought settled on Ink and Error both, before they both started to move. "Well, alright," Ink spoke up cheerfully. "If it's close enough to the sunrise then sure. But!" he booped his child on the nose and firmly said, "Try not to make this a habit, yeah?"

Paperjam, overjoyed that they were getting to go on a mini field trip with their parents, positively _beamed_ up at him. "Okay!"

Error scooped them up in Ink's place and grumbled, "Five more minutes." Which earned a squeal from their child at the ticklish sensation in their tummy.

"Daddy _no!_ We'll miss the sun rise!!"

"We can watch dunk- Daddy Dream stumble out of bed later," the destroyer playfully bargained, pretending to doze off after speaking with a loud, dramatic snore.

Shrieking, Paperjam smacked his shoulder. "Papa, wake up! Up! Come _on!_ Stop pretending or else we're gonna miss the sunrise! _PAPA!"_

"What's going on in here...?"

Immediately, everyone's gazes turned to the doorway where Geno and Reaper stood, both peering over and around Cross and into the room. "An early start to the day, huh?" the god mused, eyes weighed by a sleepiness too stubborn to be abandoned. "Well, good morning then, everyone."

"Reaps, you should head back to bed," Geno scolded, straightening after Cross stepped inside so that the new arrivals didn't have to position themselves oddly to be seen. "You're going to have a busy day with Gothy today. Stars knows you'll need energy. A-and it- it's just the others fooling around." _You didn't have to follow me to keep me safe._

Reaper's sleepy grin softened. _Gen..._ "Nah, I think I'm more curious about what's going on in here."

"We're gonna see the sun once Papa stops pretending to be asleep!" Paperjam exclaimed, swapping their wide grin out halfway through their sentence for a scowl aimed at Error. "Papa, m'gonna eat all your chocolate! _All_ of it!"

At this, the destroyer cracked a socket up at them and grumbled, "That's a low blow, brat." _As if you know where it all is..._

They grinned back cheekily and, bouncing slightly, said, "Please?"

Error sighed dramatically and groaned, _"Fiiiiine._ Putting his mom voice to work, he ordered, "Go grab your coat while your mother and I get dressed."

Cheering, the little artist hopped off their bed and bolted out the room, squeezing past the legs in their way. Geno chuckled, watching him run off. _I hope Mari and Merci will be like that..._

Immediately, he shook his head and plastered a smile on his face. _Of course they will... Sci's going to help us figure out a solution for Mari's deafness. Everything will be oka-_

"Gen," Reaper murmured lowly, "Are you sure you don't want to take it easy for a bit too...?"

"What do you-"

Simultaneously, all the adults froze, except for Cross.

With Res, Reaper and Goth out flying, and Ink, Error, PJ and Cross at the park... it really only left Spright and Dream with Geno and the twins. Better than last time and yet...

Ink opened his mouth-

"I'll stay with ya, Gen. It's been a bit since we've hung out and had a Brother's Day, right?" Error smiled.

"Ru..." Ink murmured. "PJ wants you there too."

There was a pause. "....I'm not... feeling so great right now. And besides, Ink'n Cross should hang out for once."

The guard in question stared unblinkingly at Error. His uncertainty would've been completely hidden, had he not shifted his weight between his feet a few times.

"Guys..." Geno complained quietly, the trembling of his hands hidden by the too-long sleeves of the spare black robe he wore. "If you made a promise with Paperjam, you should keep it. I... I'll be fine, okay? Spry can help me with the twins, and D-Dream will be around too. _I'll be fine." I won't be alone, this time._

And yet, the unease lingered over all their heads. "Glitchface-"

"I'll be fine," Geno insisted again, trying not to think about just how quiet the house could seem when most of it's inhabitants were gone, or the guest he would have to entertain. _It's just Sci, it's just... I can trust him. He delivered the twins, for Star's sake. I can..._ He swallowed nervously, shuffling closer to Reaper who was quick to draw Geno closer to his side with an arm. "I don't want to be the reason Paperjam ends up having their hopes crushed, guys." His voice lowered, shamed. "...Not again..."

Everyone startled, thrown off by that small addition. _Does he think-_

"Papa! I got my jacket on like you sai- how come you aren't ready?" Paperjam demanded, scowling fiercely upon finding their parents still in bed. "The sun is gonna come up and go away before we even get outside! You gotta hurry!"

"Jam-" Error began.

Determined, Geno jumped in. "Your Papa is just being lazy, sweetie. He and your mama are getting up _right now,_ though. _Together."_

Ink watched Geno closely, resolving to message Dream after they leave to let him and Error know if _anything_ happens. No matter how small. He tore his gaze away to smile at PJ. "How about you help Daddy Cross get some food together? We can have a breakfast picnic at the park! But make sure to choose some healthy stuff too, okay?" He stage whispered, "We can enjoy something sweet when we get back."

Once again rejuvenated, PJ snatched Cross' hand and started tugging him towards the stairs, being sure to remind him of the limited time before sunrise.

Error crawled off the bed and poked Geno in the forehead. "Dumbass. Don't put yourself in situations you're not comfortable with."

"What he _means_ is that we'll be back before Sci comes around," Ink sent a smile to Geno.

Reaper nuzzled the top of his head and murmured, "We will too. I promised you I'd be there."

"And I might not have said my promise out loud, but same," the artist nodded firmly.

More relieved than he cared to admit, Geno smiled. "I... thank you," he mumbled, ducking his head a little to avoid their fond gazes. "I think I'm going to try to get some more rest in before the twins wake. Reaps- _Reaper!"_

Arms now full of squirming Geno, the god in question grinned and pressed a kiss to the smaller skeleton's head in an apology for the little surprise. "I'll join you, Gen. Goodnight, you two- well," he chuckled, "good morning, I guess? Have fun."

"Yeah, yeah. Go sleep, you big idiot. Take the shorter idiot with you."

"No, wait!" Ink protested, stepping forward just to find himself hesitating, uncertain. _I... I don't want to scare him off... not when we haven't really talked about- He's touching me._ The thought swiftly cut through the chaos starting to form in his head, pleasant surprise filling Ink's startled gaze as he caught Geno eye.

A little unsure of himself, the glitch smiled. A thumb stroked under Ink's eye as he did so, soft. Loving. "...Have fun, Inky... and you too Error," he whispered, unable to shake the stubborn fear that lingered whenever the primordial was near, but wanting to at least try. For Ink's sake, and his own. _I'm already so afraid of everything else... I don't want to keep being afraid of you too..._

_"I'm going to teach you a fun little word, Genocide. You're going to learn it, understood? And once you do, I want you to **never** forget it. Why? Well... because it'll be funny. A little... inside joke, you could say. Now, repeat after me..." A pearly white smile full of fangs pressed against his own, shifting to form letters as Nightmare purred- " **C r e e**."_

Slowly, Geno's hand fell from Ink's cheek. "...I... I'll see you later..."

Ink stared after them dumbly, sockets wide with bright hearts in them, even as they disappeared into their own room. _How strange that we still sleep in separate rooms..._

A thought for another day.

Error tugged Ink back into the room and shut the door. "C'mon, let's get dressed before PJ bites our heads off."

Ink heard what Error didn't say.

_Let's not disappoint them, okay?_


	16. Splitscreens and Sunrises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a few different perspectives, and a decision is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> split scenes!

It took a bit, but the four of them got to a decent picnic area with plenty of time to spare to watch the sun rise, much to Error's hidden annoyance. He'd been _comfortable_ , dammit!

But seeing the excited expression on his brat's face as they helped set up the picnic area with Ink and Cross _definitely_ made up for it. He missed them. Stars, he missed them so _much_ that it hurt. His little Jambomination...

"Daddy Cross, not like that! Like _this!"_

Finding his gaze drifting up to Cross, Error couldn't help but feel... _warm_ inside. Complete. In a way he wasn't sure he had ever felt before.

 _I... tried so hard not to think about you..._ and yet, there was a noticeable change within him that Error could only identify as something finally being fulfilled; a sensation he didn't realize he yearned for until now. "Slow down, brat!" he called, eyeing their surroundings warily. He... didn't really like how far away they were from home, or how open the area was. There were too many places for shadows to hide. Too many variables that left him on the edge. "And stay where we can see you!"

"I'm just getting flowers, Papa! For a center... thingy!"

"Centerpiece?" Cross guessed, cracking a smile when Paperjam nodded rapidly in response.

 _He's tense too..._ from nerves, or for the same reasons that Error's eyelights kept flickering around? _I... I don't like this,_ the destroyer thought, fingers beginning to itch around the platter of sandwiches he held. _I really, really don't-_

———

_-like this,_ Geno thought, arms crossed under his chin as he peered into Merciful's crib. He was alone now, and far sooner than he expected to be. _Gothy, I love you, but why did you have to wake up so early?_

The moment the little skeleton realized that Paperjam was out having fun, he wanted to do the same. Now, he was off with Reaper and Res, waiting for the sun to rise so that the three could begin flying. Spright was still asleep though, as was Dream. That left Geno awake... and alone.

_At least the lights in our room are bright..._

_For now..._ he stared harder at Merciful, trying hard to not think about the possibility of the lights going out. _We should get more lights everywhere... maybe I can get away with hanging our Gyftmas lights on the stairwell...?_

Of course, the only place darker than the room he was in was the attic, which held no light until the sun shown through the window, or unless he held a flashlight.

A flashlight... _like the hanging light in the Save Screen-_

To try and distract himself, Geno moved away and tapped into his phone for the video playing app, setting up some mindless Metatton station for the noise.

———

Ink took his hand and murmured, "I've got eyes on PJ, Ru. I know it's going to be... less than pleasant until the sun rises, but I won't let them go too far away okay?"

Cross was already tailing after PJ. "Need help?" He offered, still shoving down his insecurities of being around the child. Of course, they didn't realize that, but instead brightened.

"Yes! You need more colors Daddy Cross. Um... Dream Dad was teaching Gothy and I to make stuff from flowers! Wanna see?"

The guard almost glanced back to Error and Ink for permission, of course, his teacher was the one that caught it in the way his shoulders angled just the _slightest_ amount towards him. Instead, Cross kept his gaze firm on PJ and murmured, "I... think it'd be fun to learn...."

Paperjam grinned, bouncing on their heels excitedly. "I'll tell you if you suck!"

"Uh... thanks...?" Cross mumbled, unsure.

"Jam, a _nice_ artist-"

"I can't hear you, Mama! You're too far away!" Grinning wider, Paperjam urged Cross to sit before crawling onto his lap to get comfortable, deciding that his new dad would be a much better seat than the floor. "Watch me, kay?"

"...Sure thing, little Teach."

Barely catching the name from where he stood, Error softened. _That was-_

"Cute," Ink murmured, lacing their fingered together as they both watched over the duo.

———

He was halfway through an, er, intense scene of Metatton realizing that he was in fact the evil twin the whole time when noise came from the crib. _Mari....?_

With the show's twist still fresh in mind, Geno almost hesitated to check on his own twins. _The evil twin huh...?_ At this point, he couldn't remember much from the castle except for pain and fear. Sometimes vivid flashes of Nigh- _Negativity_ threatening him or taunting him would just appear but overall, he couldn't remember details. Ink and Reaper said that _both_ SOULs had seemed to glow as a reaction to their nearby presence. Error saw it too and Geno was _sure_ they were right. Except...

 _One of them was behind the other most of the time, weren't they...?_ Geno peered into the crib, a little fearfully. It was Merci's eyes that looked almost closer to Negativity's. A turquoise blue, that _could_ be mistaken for a darker cyan. Even the ever-present spiral lights in their eyes screamed of Ink and yet...

Negativity knows how to shapeshift... Geno stared at his daughter, uncertain, even as her brother started to fuss more. _He-_

———

There was a moment where the sky darkened slightly more, disabling PJ's teaching Cross to make another flower crown. It distracted enough for them to glance around in irritation before gasping. "The sunrise!" They squealed, pointing.

Ink leaned against Error's shoulder, glancing only for a moment to squint at the marvel that they had taken for granted. Though he decided to watch Cross' reaction, and the way PJ clung to the guard's jacket, just buzzing with excitement.

_Chk..._

Ink's sockets widened at the noticeable crack in his shield. Taking in the view, his jaw dropped slightly, reacting subtly to the sheer brightness as the sun inched it's way over the horizon line and began it's ascent. Tears glimmered in the corner of his sockets, and though he was almost certain Cross would claim they were from the light, Ink knew it was from the beauty.

 _...Heh, the beauty...?_ Yeah... yeah. Beautiful was certainly the right word for the situation, but there was an element of sorrow to it that painted the stunning colors before Ink's gaze blue. _How many times have you seen the sunrise, Cross?_ he wondered, pressing his cheek to the top of Error's skull when the destroyer leaned into his side. _Just what has Negativity taken from you, I wonder...?_

Error sneezed.

———

"Geno?"

Jolting, Geno whirled around with a wide socket suddenly full of flickering magic. _Who-_ "O-oh... Dream..." he whispered, the wisps of crimson magic around his eyelight fading. "I- I didn't-"

"Hear me?" Dream finished, a concerned look in his eye as he glanced behind Geno.

Oh.

Marigold was crying, he realized as his surprise faded, turning to find the older yet smaller of the twins wailing inside of his crib. Not just that, but... but Merciful was crying as well. Loudly.

 _I... didn't hear them..._ His heart dropped at the thought.

Still, he gazed uncertainly at Merci before lifting her brother up into his embrace. "Shh..." he soothed, pressing his teeth to his son's head. "It's okay," he murmured lowly.

Hovering by the door still, Dream murmured, "Do you mind if I soothe Merci...?"

Wearily, Geno stared at him. He's fine. He's good. _This is Dream. This is **Dream**._

———

"Aww, how cute!" Ink cooed.

Error scowled back and grumbled, "Shut up." He rubbed his nose.

Snickering a little, he murmured, "I think you made a good decision."

"Which part?"

"Dragging Cross with us."

As if hearing his name, the guard glanced over just to be immediately distracted by PJ, who was trying to climb up his shoulder to place the flower crown. "Stay still!" the child demanded.

Error softened a little and murmured, "I shoulda done it-"

"I know. But you did this time, and that's... that counts. May when things settle a little more, we can ask him if he wants to date the lot of us?"

Somehow, Error was surprised. And not. Oh but he was definitely torn, alright. For one thing, he almost didn't want to share Cross. The moment the both of them are out of Negativity's sight, just to have Cross stolen away by Error's husbands? That.... _really_ pissed him off. _He's mine! He was mine first!_

Those thoughts stopped him cold. _That..._

_That sounded like something **Negativity** would say..._

Suddenly ill, the destroyer tore his gaze away from Cross and dropped it to his lap instead. _What... what the actual fuck is wrong with me...?_ It didn't matter what his history with the other ex-second was. Cross was- he was a fucking _person_ , not something to own.

_"You're **mine** , Error," Nightmare hissed, claws dug deep into soft ecto. "I know where your gaze has strayed, but you made your decision long, long ago when you took my hand. You chose **me** ," Something prideful found its way into the king's gaze. It almost made the crazed possession easier to handle. "I won your love fair and square, little destroyer, and I won't have something as silly as you changing your mind steal that victory away."_

_That night, Nightmare made sure he knew who he belonged to, fucking him into every surface in the emerald eyed skeleton's room. It was hard and messy and merciless. The bruises didn't fade for days and the ache between his thighs took even longer than that to disappear._

_The name carved into his back took the longest to heal._

Trembling, Error desperately pulled himself out of his own thoughts just to find himself tucked close against Ink, the empath's arms loose around him as he whispered quiet reassurances, promising, "We're out, Ru. We're out. _You're_ out, Fringe, and he can't hurt you. He can't-"

"B-b...but.... b-but-" _but he already did_ , and the memories were- it was-

_"You'll always be **mine** , Error."_

His vision flickered a crowded red.

Sunlight was the last thing he saw before he crashed.

———

"There we go," Dream cooed, gently setting the appeased infant back down in her crib once she ceased her crying. "She just needed some... love, it seems."

Smiling faintly, Geno mumbled a quiet thanks as he stepped up to Marigold's crib, though he hesitated before placing the oldest twin down. _I... Merci seemed so upset at her brother's crying..._ being carried together probably meant that they had some sort of bond... right? Maybe it would make them both happy to nap together within the same crib rather than being separated, even if only by wooden bars...? _But... her eyes..._

Sleepily, Merciful blinked up at him. With a quiet coo, she drooled all over herself before giggling after releasing a bit of gas. It was... the complete opposite of intimidation.

 _I'm... really pathetic, aren't I?_ Geno thought, gently placing Marigold down next to his sister before checking her diaper. _Just gas_ , thankfully. "You're not all that scary, are you? No, you're... y-you're just my little princess." _No matter w-who your father is, you're **my** baby..._

Merci offered him a toothy grin.

Geno hated just how much more at ease he felt when he realized it looked a lot like Ink's. "...Stars, I... I'm a horrible mother..."

"Ge?"

 _O-oh, I-_ Embarrassed, he turned around. "I... forgot you were here-”

Dream smiled when he froze. "Is something wrong, honey?" he cooed, emerald eyelights dancing with amusement.

Geno tensed, staring at him unblinkingly. His breathing hitched, burning within his ribcage until air was leaving faster than it was entering him. "C-Cree-" he whimpered.

"Cree...?"

Another blink and Dream was staring at him with golden, concerned eyelights. "Ink's out with Error and PJ and Cross, remember?" after a beat, Dream hesitantly took a step forward, "Gen-"

Even though the color was different now, Geno still flinched back, snatching the crib the twins were settled in and dragging it behind himself. _I won't let you take them...! Or hurt them....!! They... they're **my** kids....!_

———

The crash unexpectedly shot through Ink and he yelped at the touch. "Ru?!"

Cross and PJ looked over in alarm, though Cross was quick to try and distract PJ. "We just have to give him time to come back," He soothed.

"How... did you know...?" PJ cried, staring up at him. "Daddy sometimes breaks but how did you know??"

"We're.... old friends," Cross mumbled. "Say, how about you and I weave him a get well flower crown together?"

Sniffling, PJ glanced to Error and nodded firmly, standing to grab Cross' hand and tug him near some yellow flowers he had seen earlier.

Relieved to try and help Error without an audience, Ink sorted through his memories, recalling the steps Error had unintentionally taught him for when he crashed.

It was so much harder than it should have been, but Ink loosened his hold on Error and pushed himself away to give the destroyer space for when he came to. There was nothing in Error's hands thankfully, so he didn't have to worry about him breaking whatever he might have held and hurting himself as his fingers rapidly twitched; curling and uncurling around air. _Oh Ru..._

 _"What sent you over the edge, Fringe?"_ he whispered, glad to see that the destroyer, though locked in place, wasn't flailing about. Every now and then, a particularly terrible crash would hit. They were... unnerving. Hard to sit through even with the knowledge that holding Error when he flailed about could potentially harm the destroyer more than it would help. This crash was calmer though. Not peaceful, but... calmer. Tame. Error was just sitting stiffly with those twitching hands of his. Still... "Please, come back to me soon, Error."

Worried as he was, Ink overlooked two distinct echoes of emotions not his own.

———

"Geno," Dream tried again, smiling soothingly as he kept to himself. For now. "Geno, honey, it's just me. You're perfectly safe, okay? It's just me."

Golden eyes.

A gentle smile.

Both of these belonged to Dream.

And yet, familiarity of an appearance was no longer reliable. Not after Night- Negativity used beloved voices and appearances against him time and time again. _But... but he never wore Dream's face..._

Trembling, he straightened and swallowed down nerves in the form of bile. A test. He... he had to do a test, _like all the ones he gave to me..._ but what? Cree wouldn't work, and he didn't know enough about Dream to question the other on the guardian. _I... I need to..._

_"Ah, ah, ah. You broke a rule, Genocide. You know what happens now."_

_Punishment._

"...F...fuck you..." he whispered, feeling almost silly as he cleared his throat and tried again. "Fuck... fuck you...!" _T-there... I broke a rule..._

_"You will **always** treat me with respect."_

_Oh gods, I... I broke a rule..._

Dream looked... surprised? Maybe a little awkward? "U-um... I'm... _sure_ you don't actually want me near you right now... H-hey, I'll get us some coffee and tea started, okay? Spright should be waking up soon, now that the sun is up." Again, Dream tried for a smile, though much less certain of himself, before stepping out of the room.

The glitch stared after him. _So.... so it **was** Dream..._

He sagged against the crib, gripping it for the lifeline it was to prevent from collapsing with the confusing clash of guilt and elation. If there was anything to trust from Negativity, it was a swift reaction for breaking those rules. The punishments could be something like a slap in the face, or hours of illusionary torment, but whatever he chose on that spectrum, it happened immediately. _"How else would you learn, if it isn't now?"_

_I just... I just cussed at Dream..._

But it _was_ Dream!!

Gods... gods, he cussed at **Dream**...!

———

Cross and PJ spent their time picking flowers and weaving a crown for Error. They even snacked on some food before Error began to stir. "Papa!" PJ exclaimed, though they knew well enough to stay back and grip Cross' jacket for comfort.

Gently, Ink nudged a bar of chocolate Error's way. "Here," he murmured softly.

Shuddering, Error fumbled for the bar and pressed the entire thing into his mouth, wrapper and all. He saw Ink's expression scrunch, but the artist thankfully kept his scolding to himself. "T... time...?"

"You only lost about ten minutes, Ru. Just enough time for Jammy to make you a very nice flower crown." Softer, Ink murmured, "What set you off, hon?"

Error shook his head slightly. _Not now._ "W-where's my crown?" he asked, speaking slowly around the chocolate in his mouth. "Jam?"

"H-here, daddy!" Taking special care not to crowd their father, Paperjam smiled extra wide just for Error as he held out a crown of yellow flowers. Blossoms, and a few weeds Error was sure Paperjam thought were just pretty flowers. "It matches your smile!"

———

Mortified, Geno pressed his face into his hands. "I... I can't believe I just that..." Dream probably thought he was a lunatic now, or worse: Rude. And after the guardian helped with Merciful, too! _I... I'm never going to be able to look him in the eye._

_"Come now, Genocide. Be polite and look me in the eyes when we speak."_

Shuddering, he slowly settled down on the floor with his back against the cribs. _It's just a memory, okay? You- Stars, you can't keep doing this, idiot._ Hearing fragments of the past, second guessing everything and everyone in his own home... _You need to stop being so... so-_

_"Weak," Nightmare sighed, disappointed._

"...Just... get over it all already..." Geno quietly urged himself.

"Get over what, bruh?" Spright mumbled from the doorway. Yet another face Neggy never took, since he hated how the skeleton looked and sounded. It was... 'beneath him', and yet Geno felt that, if Neggy thought he was deserving of a punishment severe enough, the primordial would most definitely don the face of one of the glitch's brothers. And find a way to blame it on him, too.

Instead, Geno shook his head and mumbled, "Nothing Spright..."

"Hah.... sure." Spright frowned a little and said quietly, "It's gonna take time. Not every day's gonna go great, Gen, but that's part of da healin'. Be kind to yourself, 'kay? We got yo back if ya need us."

———

And indeed it did. Error lowered his head enough for PJ to drop the crown on his crown before straightening. He felt ridiculous and yet.... PJ squealed in excitement and Cross had a slight blush on his cheeks. Huh...

 _I could get used to seeing that color on his face..._ Smirking, Error arrogantly cocked his head to one side. "G-good?"

"Yeah-"

"Daddy looks so pretty!" PJ exclaimed, bouncing in his seat.

"Yeah, he does," Ink said, echoed by Cross who stuttered his way through the agreement.

At the looks sent his way, the color on Cross' cheeks deepened and he, heh, crossed his arms self consciously, mumbling a shy, "Just kidding," in an attempt to obscure the honesty of his statement. Clearly, it didn't work so he ducked his head and resorted to poorly hiding instead. "S-so, uh, what do we do now...? The sun is already up."

"I wanna play!" Paperjam exclaimed, bouncing on their heels. "And Mama, first daddy said that you'd teach me how to fly like Gothy and daddy Reaper!"

Ink shot Error a look. _I was really hoping they'd forget that._

He didn't have wings-

_"Stars, they're... they're beautiful..." Posi whispered, awed. Slowly, gently, he ran his fingertips across Cree's-_

Ink blinked.

_He screamed, flinching away from Negativity as he gripped a handful of-_

"Mama!"

_-and **pulled,** forcing them out with a nasty smile on his face._

"MAMA!"

———

Unable to handle such open kindness, Geno averted his gaze. "...Thanks, Spry," he whispered. Then, paranoia began to settle in and he forced himself to meet his youngest brother's eyes again. The glasses made it harder to tell, but... this way, he had a chance of catching any hints of emerald in the other's stare. "Did the twins wake you up...?"

"Nah, my alarm did. I jus' wanted ta check on ya." He took a deep breath of coffee and sighed. "Ah, smells like ol' Sandy's up'n makin' breakfast. Need help bringin' the twinsies downstairs?"

"....yeah, thanks..."

Geno watched closely as Spright wandered into the room and scooped Merci up into his arms. _Why did he choose Merci?_ Geno's paranoia demanded.

Logically, he knew that it was because she was stronger than her brother that everyone chose to pick her up instead. Nobody wanted to be in charge of should something happen to Mar. And yet... _Mar might be an infant with poor health, but he's not that delicate...!_ Either way, Geno lifted his son into his arms and followed after Spright, watching closely.

 _Huh.... what color eyelights **did** Spright have...?_ It seemed like so long ago....

———

Ink sighed and shook the fuzzy memories away. With a smile he didn't feel, he turned to Paperjam and murmured, "You, daddy and I can't fly like Gothy and Reaper can. We don't have wings, honey."

"...That's stupid!" the little skeleton decided instantly. "Daddy Reaper's my daddy too!"

 _A perfect opportunity,_ Error thought.

Almost in sync, Ink shook his head. "That's why we used to call Reaps _Dunkle_ , little artist. Reaps and Gen, and Dream when he joined us, because he's your daddy by marriage or dating, but not by blood."

"But what about Daddy Cross?"

Cross sputtered, akin to a deer caught in headlights when Paperjam turned his way expectantly. "I- uh, I'm not-"

"Daddy Cross," Ink began, grinning, "is like your other once-dunkles. He's apart of our family too Jammy, but he didn't help make you like your daddy Ruru and I did, understand?" Catching something that Error and Cross were unable to see, the empath rushed to continue his expectation, adding, "Just because some of your daddy's didn't help make you doesn't mean that you don't love you, okay? It just means that they love you _so, so much_ that they chose to be your daddies!"

Now, Paperjam looked distraught. "You and Papa only love me because you made me?"

"N-no!" Ink yelped, panicking a bit now. "Ruru and I love you very much, Jammy. No matter _how_ you're our baby, we love you."

"...Okay!" Appeased, the smallest skeleton of the current quad climbed onto their mother's lap. "But how come you don't have wings, Mama? Daddy? I want wings too! They look cool! But I don't want feathery ones like Gothy, okay? I want dragon ones!"

Error narrowed his eyes at Ink when the artist began looking... inspired. "D-don't... don't y-you _dare."_

———

The uncertainty left Geno unsettled, but didn't everything do that now? Normal shadows, the familiarity of his house, the faces of everyone he adored... it all left him shaken, at least a little. _I'm so tired of being afraid..._ but he couldn't just stop, even when he tried his best to handle his fears. "Do you... um, do you have work today?"

"Yup," putting a bit of flare into the 'p,' Spright shot his brother a grin. "Not until later today though, so yer stuck with me, my rad-tastic broski."

_"Oh, please don't look so frightened, darling. You're not stuck here, per say. You're simply... a guest confined to this special little room."_

Swallowing to ease the dryness in his throat, Geno cracked a small smile. "How... how has work been anyways? Are you still teaching kids skating on the side?"

"Ya a little. Dey've been renovating da ice rink so I've been teachin' them roller skates too. Dey've all mastered skateboardin' so I wanted ta teach them somethin' else."

That... was really sweet. And Geno feared the day his kids took an interest in anything with wheels below their feet.

———

Ink, instead of commenting, merely smiled and took another bite of food.

The destroyer scowled but decided to drop it. _For now. I'm keeping my eye on you, asshole,_ he thought to himself.

As if sensing the thought, Ink's smile grew around his mouthful of food. _Did Cross make this?_ he wondered, unsure if the meal spread out across the blanket was the result of the white and black clad skeleton's own skill, or if they were enjoying leftovers. "This is really good."

Lavender darkened into violet.

 _Bingo._ "I want to have this in my mouth every day for the rest of my life," Ink groaned, enjoying another forkful with a poorly disguised grin. "Ru, I want to lick this sauce off of you-" fuck. Was flirting like that too much, too soon? Was Error going to be-

The destroyer huffed. "Don't teach Paperjam filth, bastard." Sampling what looked like macaroni salad, Error hummed. Too quiet for their child to hear, he murmured, "Too much going on right now."

_Longing. A hint of desire._

Slowly, Ink smiled, gentle pinks settling in his chest. _He... he's open to the idea though._ Now wasn't the time, but... _that wasn't a no_ , and there was no fear in Error's colors. Well, he thought, smile growing stiff as a protective gleam entered his eyes. ... _There's no fear directed at **me.**_

———

Stars, he could imagine it now. Goth was already so excited to tackle flying, but what would happen once the wonder over flight began to fade? Would he want to try skateboarding next? _Stars, what if he tries to skateboard on... on **buildings**?!_ It would be possible for him to get high enough with his wings.

"Jam's been askin' about boards though, ya know? Been thinkin' about getting 'em one that's nice and plain. Let them give it some razzle-dazzle with their rad paintin' skillz and all that. Should I get one for Goth-"

"N-no!" Oh gods, please not Goth- "I... I mean, maybe check it over with the others first? Make sure they're okay with it...?" _Please, have some sense you guys._ “I think... his wings should be...." _Too much!_ "E-enough to entertain him...."

Spright studied Geno for a moment and shrugged. "Maybe when he's older?"

To that, there wasn't a reply. Without a doubt, the child would get one, regardless of if Geno said yes or no. And stars, he was almost more scared of that than of the two potential dangers near him.

———

_One step at a time..._ Speaking of time... "We should start getting our things together. Sci's supposed to swing by in two hours, and I want to make sure Geno's okay before then."

"Right..." Cross quickly finished up his flower crown and placed it on his own head. He smiled a little at PJ's criticism, but didn't seem to take it to heart.

Together, the four of them started packing, until PJ tugged Error aside and whispered, "Papa! You should make Daddy- Dunkle Crossy one too!"

 _Me..._ "You think?" he whispered back, already scouting the area around them for flowers. It wouldn't be the nicest looking crown, but years of working with his threads and fine projects meant he could string up a sturdy flower crown in just a few moves. "There, get me those white flowers, okay? And some of the colored ones."

"The pink ones!" Paperjam insisted, bending to collect as many white and pink blossoms as they could hold. "How come there's no purple?" he huffed, displeased that they couldn't find anything to match Cross' magic. Pink was as close as they could get. "Here, papa!"

Curious, Ink and Cross looked their way. "What's-"

"Don't look!" hiding the flowers behind their back, Paperjam scowled at the duo. "Turn away! You're ruining the surprise!" And it _had_ to be a surprise, too!

The movies they watched with Gothy proved it.

———

_I... I still have Reaper's card number memorized..._ maybe he could order some protective gear for the children? Oh, Spright himself knew some places that offered customizable options! ...R-right? Stars, he hoped he was remembering that right. "U-um, anyways..." Thankfully, he was saved from having to think up another topic by a knock at the door.

Then, he caught sight of the time and realized that, this early, _there shouldn't have been a knock on the door._

"I got it!" Dream quickly called out. With Spright stepping closer to Geno, the brothers watched Dream open the door.

Then step out with whoever was there. For a moment, Geno thought he caught a glimpse of white fur... yet the door shut before he could be certain.

Frowning, Spright nudged Gen into the kitchen, getting the twins settled before continuing dinner.

———

Amused for different reasons, Ink and Cross continued to gather the picnic things.

Expertly, Error wove his little crown together, taking criticisms from his child almost at every step. _How funny that they struggled to explain themself or even talk so long ago, and now..._ Well, funny probably wasn't the best word. Error narrowed his sockets slightly on the project, trying to stay focused.

"No, you can't put two of the pink ones together when the rest is a pattern! Daddy, that looks really, _really_ fucking dumb!"

"Hey," Error hissed, glancing up to make sure Ink didn't hear. "Watch your fuck- fudging language there, young... brat. Who told you you're allowed to swear?"

"Daddy Dream said swearing is something you should only do if you really, really, really mean it." Papaerjam said, tone a little distant as they squinted at their father's work. "And I really, really, _really_ mean it. It's fu-"

"One more swear and I'm taking away your dragon."

"No! You can't have Squid! He's mine!"

"Too fuuuudging bad, brat. He'll be _mine_ if you keep using that language, got it?"

Paperjam grumbled, looking away innocently when Error's sockets narrowed on them when he swore a mumble or two sounded foul mouthed. "Are you done yet? You're taking foreverrrrr!"

 _Stars, I miss when they couldn't talk,_ Error thought, but his smile was fond as he presented Paperjam with the finished product, and he felt... light. Happy.

Heh, he almost forgot what that felt like.

———

Eyes on the door, Dream waited until the distinct bundles of emotion made it away from the door before turning to face his guest, straightening as he did so. "Lady Toriel," he greeted, gaze bright yet wary.

Smiling, the goddess bowed her head. "Lord Positivity, my old friend."

"No offense, but what are you doing here?"

She lowered her voice even more. "Has Lord Creativity spoken to you about the meeting?"

Dream stared. "The meet- he _went?"_

She raised her gaze enough to see that the surprised voice indeed matched his expression. "O-oh...." she fiddled with her paws for a moment, looking very much like she would rather leave now. "Perhaps I should-"

"Tell me _exactly_ what happened."

———

And the little expression on their face brightening was even better. "It's ready!" they declared.

"Alright, lil abomination." Error nodded towards the other two. "Let's get ready to go."

"But ya gotta-!"

"I will, I will! Patience, Jam," Error followed after them, holding the crown behind his back as he accidentally met Cross' eyes way too soon.

Cross' eyelights flickered over his face, then narrowed. "Teach?"

 _How the fuck is he already suspicious?_ Error raised a brow. "Yeah?" he drawled, adding a few extra letters to the simple word as he stretched his response out, stalling. "Got something to say, Rookie?"

"What's behind your-"

"Papa taught me bad words!" Paperjam exclaimed, doing their best to cover for Error in the worst way possible. "Mama, daddy taught me how to say fuck!"

 _Oh, that little shit is definitely Ink's child too._ It was the only way to explain the way that Paperjam managed to be both endearing and annoying as shit. _That's my baby abomination,_ the thought was loving even as he scowled. "Hey, don't throw me under the bus for something I didn't do, brat!"

"Papa!" The little brat hissed, scowling. "I'm trying to help! Play along!"

 _Stars, I love them._ "Your help sucks."

Offended, PJ decided that retribution was in store. They turned to Cross, opened their mouth, and shouted, "Daddy made you a crown! Marry him!" before running away with loud, cackling laughter.

Ink startled, a laugh of his own escaping his mouth as he gave chase, leaving the two alone.

———

There was a command there, but more obvious than that was the pleading look in Dream's eyes as he gazed up at the goddess. _I'm so tired of being left out of the loop._ "Lady- Tori, please. I need to know what that idiot got us into."

"...Lord Negativity showed himself," she murmured, voice soft to lessen the impact of the blow. At the primordial's flinch, she smiled sympathetically. "It is... quite the talk of the realm at the moment. The return of Lord Creativity, Lord Negativity showing himself... Death's apparent involvement in everything..."

"What did he do?" Dream whispered, not sure if his own words referenced Ink or the man he once considered a brother. "What... was anyone harmed?"

"No one was harmed, save for Lord Creativity's.... credibility is definitely shot. It appears that Lord Negativity wants control of the court, and thus the multiverse."

"What-? No! They cannot-!"

"I'm afraid the others, the younger gods, may.... join him. And I'm unsure of how well that will go. Should Lady Undyne side with Lord Negativity, then..." Life altered, certain that the guardian knew very well what that would mean.

Dream paled considerably. "Sh.... she can't...."

"She chooses the winning side. For now, we are at a draw."

———

Though they were far from the same color, Error thought the pink complimented Cross' blush quite nicely. "So.... marry you...?"

Chuckling, Error murmured, "Flower crowns could be the new engagement rings...?"

 _Oh well... **that's** a pretty color on you..._ Error grinned, stepping forward to set the crown on his head. _Even better.... though, it could use some more blue..._

Unable to meet the other's eyes, Cross stared down at his feet as he waited for the vivid flush warming his cheeks to fade. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be going anywhere. "...Is this... a joke...?" he questioned, sure that it wasn't. Maybe not _entirely_ sure, but... mostly positive. About... 60/40. "I, uh, can't really tell, Teach."

Error's long silence forced him to look up, nerves screaming at him to check the other's expression for evidence of whatever the destroyer wasn't saying. Heart already shattering, he braced himself for silent laughter and a mocking expression, but-

"You idiot," Error whispered, stepping forward and leaning in.

-mockery definitely wasn't what awaited him.

———

"...No." This was- they couldn't- _"No,"_ Dream repeated, voice akin to playful chimes dancing in the wind. It was a soft sound. Musical. With every word he spoke however, it began to grow firmer until a pleasant tinkling of bells rang out with all the impact of drum-like thunder shaking the skies. " **No** , this is... this is unacceptable! A draw? A draw is nothing more than _failure_ on our ends. Negativity **cannot** have claim to the throne of The First World. I will _not_ accept this, nor the downfall of all things good that would follow such a crowning."

A little startled, Life hesitated. _My friend, you've changed._ The golden eyed friend she recalled from her fondest of memories was soft spoken; meek in comparison to the two he stood beside. This change was... a bit startling, but perhaps not so unexpected, given more recent memories with him as Dream. It was definitely appreciated. "My Lord, we must abide by the rules of the court. These are the laws that Lord Creativity himself established, and changing them now..."

"...Only puts Cree's authority into further question." Sockets full of sunlight, Dream clenched his jaw shut tightly and growled. "I understand, but... _something_ has to be done. We either need to fix Cree's mistake, or-" he paused.

"...Or...?" Life whispered, heart pounding within her chest as the air grew tense around them. The silence that followed her quite voice was full of purpose. Intent. _This is the silence that falls before war strikes_ , she thought, nervous. A little awed.

Slowly, golden suns raised. Determined.

"I, Lord Positivity, formally announce my intent for the throne," Positivity murmured.

Above, the sun burned hot.


	17. Examinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sci kind of knows what he's doing, then realizes he actually has absolutely no clue what he's doing. Best not to tell the poly though, right?

The lord of positivity felt himself smiling even before fully realizing why. Well, until Reaper and Respite walked in with Gothy excitedly recounting their flying lesson while perched on Reaper's shoulders. Several minutes later, PJ burst in, tugging hard on Ink's arm, nearly popping the appendage out it's- ah yeah there he went. Ink let his arm get disconnected, and PJ's sockets went _wide_ with a disgusted awe. The noise had the others cringing, but PJ was too focused on the fascinating disembodied arm.

Behind them, Error barked out, "Put that thing back or I'll hide it from you!"

From their nearly matching flower crowns, to the way they held hands, Dream knew that the guard was finally starting to relax a little more.

"Aww don't be mean, Ru!" Ink grinned at him, making sure to reconnect his arm just in case. "I was gonna ask if Reaper _needed a hand-"_

"Eh, turns out I have four," the god chuckled, taking hold of his own son's hands to lift him off his shoulders.

With a disappointed chirp, Goth squirmed in an attempt to return to his position. "I wanna stay up high, daddy! M'don't wanna be short again!" the five year old complained, pouting.

"Blame your mother for your height," Reaper chuckled, placing Goth down on his own two feet. After speaking, he glanced around curiously. "By the way, where is-"

"Napping." Smiling at the god, Dream stepped forward and greeted him with a quick little peck on the cheek, blushing. _Don't be embarrassed, idiot. He's your boyfriend. You're allowed to be-_

Smoothly, Reaper returned the favor, though his kiss landed right on Dream's shy grin rather than on a gold-tinged cheek. "Thanks, Sunstar. I'm gonna go check on him, and the twins too I assume. Lemme know when Sci is here!" Already halfway to the stairs, Reaper grinned. "I'll... do my best to keep Gen from bolting to a hiding place."

"We don't necessarily need Geno present for Marigold's appointment."

Error snorted, "Nah, we don't-"

"-but Geno could do with a check up as well." Ink finished.

Pausing, Dream eyed the trio with a frown only matched by Cross' own suspicious look. "...Please tell me you don't intend to trick Geno into getting a check up _without his consent."_ Three guilty looks, reduced down to two when Reaper quickly disappeared upstairs. "Are- are you _serious?!_ Guys, do you really think that fooling him into being examined is a good idea? Especially after-"

_How little choice he's had concerning everything else._

From the doorway of the kitchen, Spright chuckled. "Ya dun gotta worry, Sandman." Voice light, the colorful skeleton tore his burning glare away from where Cross' hand was linked with Error's in order to smile at Dream. "Glitchy-brah the second ain't dull. He knows whatz up! It's kinda shady, but Gee is used ta bein' tricked oughta the house n'stuff. It's cool."

"...You all _really_ need to find a better way to compromise."

Error rolled his eyes. _"You_ try reasoning with him." _It's even harder now..._

 _...Because I can't lie to you,_ artist of the group thought. _Not without being caught red-handed, at least._ "...Dream," Ink began, trying for a soothing tone. "Honey-"

"Don't you _dare_ 'Honey' me right now," the guardian hissed, eyelights flaring out for a moment before the gold contained itself as simple orbs. "You will _not_ coddle me, nor are you going to smooth talk your way out of this discussion, _Lord_ Creativity. _Or_ the one about what you did at The First- at Reapertale today. Do you understand what position you put yourself in with your... with your little hissy fit?!"

"Hissy fit?!" Scowling, Ink narrowed his eyes at the other primordial. _Don't test me,_ the expression seemed to say in a frightening look of familiarity. "If you saw the way they were treating Reaper-"

"Then I would have handled it _diplomatically!_ Times have changed, Cree! You can just strut around with your head held high and expect people to cower at your feet at a single look! We've been gone for _centuries._ We have to establish ourselves again before we can even hope to order others around, let alone if we want to get away with _breaking our own rules!"_ With a heavy exhale, Dream let go of his rising anger in order to clear his mind. This wasn't a conversation to be had with ire in his heart. "I made a claim for the throne. By nightfall, this knowledge will be all over First- um, Reapertale."

Respite froze slightly. "Dream, you'll-"

"Be against Negativity? I know. And I have some bridges to try and rebuild beforehand. But until then?" Gilded stars burned into Ink's rainbow-like eyes. "I think it would be best if you didn't attend any meetings for a while. You've a lot of healing to do, too, even if you're trying to hide it."

 _...Is... is he banning me...?_ It didn't feel like a ban, and yet... _I don't think I've ever seen Posi look so serious..._ Frowning, the artist opened his mouth-

"No, Cree. You don't even remember half your powers still, is that right?" At his faltering expression, Dream shook his head. _"Stay here._ Heal. Dammit, enjoy the time with our family and kids!"

Softly, Spright said, "I'll be happy ta keep a socket on him."

"Will you? That'd be good, thank you."

Ink scowled. "I don't need a fucking babysitter."

Dream narrowed his eyes, "Can I trust you to behave if I leave you alone, Palette?" he questioned, frowning. When he blinked, Positivity barely took note of the change around him, staring into symbols that seemed... off. "Look, honey, I don't like this anymore than you do, but it's safer for you-"

"Dream," Creativity interrupted.

A little startled, he blinked again and frowned as what he swore were stars vanished, replaced by the usual symbols Ink was known for. "What, Ink? Whatever you have to say, it isn't going to change my mind about you staying-"

"Who is Palette?"

Without missing a beat, Dream growled, "Don't try to distract me with random questions." It was a tactic Ink liked to use a lot, but it very rarely worked. _At least he's not pulling that 'What's that thing behind you' bull again._ "Look, just... just promise me that you'll stay here. Promise me."

_"...M'promise."_

"Good," sighing in relief, he offered the frowning artist a smile. "Thank you, Ink. I... I don't mean to be so firm, or a... well, a naggy bitch, but... this is-"

Gently, Ink caught his face with his hands. "Dream. _Posi,"_ he interrupted, voice soft with concern as worried symbols shifted into too many shapes to count. "I didn't say anything."

 _...Is he seriously going to play the memory card?_ "Ink-"

"No, honey, _listen to me."_ Glancing to the others for help, the older empath frowned and gently rubbed soothing circles into Dream's temples. Discreetly, he searched his emotions, but there was nothing out of place. Just fading annoyance and a bit of confusion. "Hon, I don't... I don't think you're in any shape to be tackling something like this either." _Not if you're... What? Hallucinating?_

"I'm in better shape than you, Ink," Dream spoke calmly despite the... more true feelings inside. "I wasn't tortured for seven months. I've had a few weeks now to remember quite a bit of my own power, including practising it. What I need from you is to stay here. Stay. Remember what you can do."

"Am I dismissed now?" Ink smiled a little at him. "I think you need healing as much as the rest of us."

"Palette...." Respite murmured to himself. There was no recognition in his voice.

Spright shrugged, "Maybe he wants one for his birthday? Say, Sandman, what kinda palette ya thinkin' of?"

Almost frustrated with that empty spot in his memory, Dream murmured, "I wasn't thinking of art supplies..."

And yet, for all that certainty, no memories came forth to present an alternative. _A nickname for Cree, maybe?_ Even as he considered the thought, Dream knew that wasn't the case. No, it was something else. Something...

More.

———

"Why the fuck would you install locks _inside_ the closet?" Error hissed sometime later, shooting Reaper a glare as he blindly coaxed his threads into place, attempting to reverse the lock on a pair of unassuming closet doors without a single fucking clue as to what he was doing. "This is so fucking stupid. _"_ _Open the door, Glitchface!_ You can't fucking hide in there forever!"

"I'll come out after Marigold's appointment."

"Yeah, about that... How exactly is the brat supposed to have his appointment _when he's in the closet with you?!_ The closet that you have _locked._ Which is _still_ the dumbest fucking design choice I've ever seen!"

Hovering behind Error anxiously, Reaper winced. He was the reason for the locks, after all. The closet he shared with Geno was far from a walk-in, but there was enough room for the glitch to get dressed inside peacefully; something that he often did to escape from eager eyes whenever Geno decided to... _dress up._ The locks were meant to keep him out and add an element of anticipation.

Now, they were being used to hide.

"Gen..." he trilled, trying to coax the other out as Error worked on the lock. "I know you're nervous about letting others around Mari, but you know this appointment will be good for him." he paused. "...And you, hon. No one has checked on your stitches, and there's a few other concerns-"

"I'm fine! _Marigold_ is fine!"

"Gen, Sci wouldn't be here if that was the case."

"And _you,"_ Error cursed as he almost got the lock undone, "You were the one that wanted him to come over soon!! Soon is in fifteen minutes! And the _sooner_ we get the both of ya fuckers checked out, the _sooner_ he can leave, and the _sooner_ you can go back to doing whatever you want!"

"...You promise he'll leave immediately after?" Geno whispered. "You'll stay with me?"

Both of them tumbled over each other to answer him, "Of course we'll stay with you. All of us." "Ya dumbass, they're our little idiots too."

The lock unclicked and Geno stared hard at the both of them from the resulting crack. "....Okay," he whispered, letting the door open slightly more, carrying Mari.

"Finally," Error's scowl dropped to a worried frown. "It's gonna take a bit but, we'll get through this, Glitchface."

"Can't we get through this without someone checking out my crotch?" Geno complained, shifting his hold on Marigold with a defeated sigh. "I know, I know," he mumbled before either of the two could respond, "it's necessary, there's no avoiding it... blah, blah, blah..."

"We won't let him touch you unless it's absolutely required," Reaper promised. "Um, you... might want to change though, Gen. Make it easier?"

The air around Geno turned glum, but the glitch didn't protest his husband's suggestion. Still, just because he had to make it easier on Sci didn't mean he was going to doll himself to be-

_Emeralds burned with heat, scorching him as they dragged from his face to his chest, then lower. Intense. Invasive._

_Leering._

"Take Mari, please." Before the words even finished leaving his mouth, Geno had Mar in Reaper's hold and was backing up towards the closet again, though not to hide. Stars, he wish it was to hide; that he could just seal himself away forever in the protective little space. _No one can hurt me in there..._ "I'm going to change."

"Ge-"

 _"Just_ change. I won't lock myself in, promise." With that, he shut the door on them. Ignoring the lock took far too much willpower, but Geno forced his hands away and snatched up a shadowy robe.

Easy access, but far from revealing.

 _And it smells like Reaper..._ a small comfort, but a comfort all the same.

With that comfort in place, he shed the rest of his clothes and spent another several minutes trying to regain the courage he knew he didn't really have. "Alright..." _The sooner we get checked, the sooner he can leave..._

Downstairs, Ink and Cross sat, staring at the front door, almost anxiously waiting for the bell to ring. Ink kept glancing at the clock, still almost squinting at the brightness of the lights outside. Despite the slight jabs in his sockets, the light was a welcome sight. Bright, beatufiul...

_Different._

Distracted as he was, the artisitic primordial jumped when the door rang.

Cross leapt to his feet, hesitating when he noticed Error, Reaper and Geno come down with the twins. Honestly, there wasn't a _good_ place to do any of this, though they hadn't given themselves enough time to really figure out where a better place would be. Aside from not-at-home.

Ink checked over his husbands quickly before making his way to the front door and opening it. "Ah... Sci."

Tilting his head back to better see Ink, Sci smiled. "Good morning." Perhaps unintentionally, the pleasant expression came off as a little unnerving when the sunlight above their heads caught on the lenses of his glasses, obscuring the smaller skeleton's eyes. "Oh, hello Geno," he greeted, eyes quickly landing on the glitch once he was allowed inside. "I must admit, given your responses during our last, uh, _intimate_ interaction, I'm surprised to see you here. I assumed you'd be hiding from me."

 _Intimate interaction?_ Geno smiled weakly, not entirely pleased with the phrasing but not wanting to cause a scene. It was humiliating enough to know that he reacted so poorly the last time he met Sci that the other skeleton rightfully assumed he was unnerved by him. "I... rather be here for the twins than..."

"Hiding in a closet?" Sci filled in, grinning. When everyone around him tensed, he blinked. "My, those glares are quite intense. Were you actually hiding in a closet before this?"

Mortified, Geno averted his gaze. _Great, now even more people know how pathetic you are._

"Oh. In that case, my apologies."

It may have simply been the protectiveness of the husbands, but none of them truly felt that Sci meant it. Even Ink was a little weary. _Of course he meant it..._

_But in case he didn't, we're all going to be there._

Sci glanced about the house, taking in everything that wasn't the husbands for a bit. "Is there somewhere you would be more comfortable, Geno?"

That part had the glitch hesitating. The living room would keep a stranger from wandering the rest of the house, but it was... so much more open... one of the bedrooms would probably make more sense with the comfort of the bed but then...

_Leering green lights, claws, dark-_

Yeah, no.

"Here is fine..." he murmured, shakily stepping forward with Marigold in his arms. _Stop being so scared... everyone is here to help you... **and** the twins._

Reaper hovered nearby, holding onto Merci while Dream stepped back inside. Both empaths kept their distance, recognizing that Geno still wasn't comfortable with them.

Sci hummed in acknowledgement and spared a moment to better observe the living room. _Sofa, armchair, coffee table..._ the coffee table would be best for examining the child, but the armchair looked like it reclined, so... "Why don't you take a seat on that chair there? We'll get you examined first, then the child... Marigold, correct?"

"Yeah..."

"Ah, I remembered correctly! Good, now... how about you pass him to someone? I'll let you decide who. You're the mother here, after all." With that said, Sci turned his attention to unpacking the supplies he felt he would need. He still wasn't an expert in this form of study, but what research he managed left him with some clarity of where to go from h- Huh, interesting. _The god already has his hands full with the other twin, yet Geno instinctively turned his way to offer Marigold..._ a result of preference? Habit?

 _Are they all not as close as they seem...? Interesting._ He would have to pay further attention to their interactions with one another if he wanted any answers. _Ah, he's heading to the other father now. Looks reluctant._

"Ink...?" Geno whispered, questioning.

The artist smiled, accepting Marigold with a quiet promise that he'd be safe with him. "We're here for you," he added, offering what reassurance he could.

Geno nodded once, staring at Marigold uncertainly. With the experience Ink had in carrying PJ sometimes-honestly it wasn't much now that the artist thought about it... well, his carrying the smallest seemed to be satisfactory for Geno, because the glitch moved away and got himself comfortable on the reclining chair.

A little uncertainly, Cross moved away from what would've been a full view of Geno's private parts, but was quickly motioned over instead. Geno snatched his hand the moment he was close enough and stared anxiously at the scientist as he continued to get his things together and understanding dawned on the guard. Subtly, he squeezed Geno's hand and stayed standing there. As he did so, Error moved to Geno's other side, hesitating at a glance towards the stairs. "Dream... the kiddos-"

"Right..." Dream murmured, making his escape to ensure PJ and Goth stayed distracted.

Either for dramatic effect or out of habit, Sci wiggled his fingers into a clean pair of gloves and snapped the latex a little more dramatically than necessary. "Okay, usually this would be done around the six-week point, but I don't see the harm in looking you over now given the... _complications_ you experienced during your pregnancy. The twins weren't your first experience with labor, correct? Or did the god over there...?"

Reaper chirped, straightening with a widened gaze. "Did I...? U-uh no. _No._ Gen was the one who carried our first child."

"I gave birth before..." Geno confirmed, grip slowly tightening on Cross' hand when Sci neared. _I... I don't want to do this..._ he didn't want to have eyes on him, or feel the other's touch.

"I see..." Kneeling, Sci gripped the excess material of Geno's borrowed cloak and began rolling the fabric up. "Have you ever experienced tearing befo-"

 _"NO!"_ Geno shrieked, instinctively lashing out and slamming a slipper-clad foot straight into Sci's jaw.

To his credit, Sci merely froze there and dropped the fabric. Everyone else in the room tensed, however, not having seen anything malicious or wrong happening. And yet-

Geno had inched away from Sci, curled up defensively and trembling as he clung to Cross' arm.

"Ow," Sci grumbled, sitting back on the coffee table to study him. Calmly, he explained, "I really should be checking those stitches, Geno. Believe me, I enjoy being kicked in the face about as much as you appear to be enjoying my presence here, but... well... If you'd prefer me to not check on you, then say so now. Before you do so, however, know this: It really, truly would be best for me to check how well you've healed. The stitches should've already dissolved, but I won't know unless you help me help you."

Cross coaxed one of his hands off from the punishing grip the other had on his bicep before murmuring, "Gen, it shouldn't take too long, and we're all right here, okay?"

Slowly, Sci nodded. "Just a couple minutes for me to check that everything is healing, then we can focus on your children."

Breathing heavily, the glitch clenched his eyes shut and forced himself to nod. _Just get it over it, stop prolonging everything,_ he told himself, swallowing to push down the urge to vomit. "...S...sorry..."

Sci shrugged, smiling despite the ache settling into his jaw. "Let's just hurry this along, okay? The sooner I examine you, the sooner I can move onto Marigold. Then, I'll leave and you'll have little reason to see me outside of scheduled visits. Oh, and emergencies, I suppose. Now!" Grinning, the scientist motioned to Geno. "Spread your legs, and please don't kick me again. My preferences aren't typically masochistic in nature."

 _"Sci,"_ Ink warned, sockets narrowing at their somewhat helpful visitor. He could tell that the scientist was trying to ease the tense atmosphere, but he wasn't appreciative of the way Geno was taking to the poor attempt at humor. "Just... get on with it. Please."

"Very well. I'm going to touch you now, okay?"

Cross coughed to hide the sound of creaking when Geno's hold on his hand tightened yet again. "You're, um, you're doing well?" he tried to praise, eyes on Geno's expression in an attempt to be respectful. When a terrified eyelight darted his way and Geno flinched at the sensation of hands coaxing his legs open, Cross smiled. It didn't feel like the right expression to wear when the glitch was so obviously afraid, but it was the only comforting thing he could think to do. "We should... we should bake a cake today. For dessert?"

 _Dessert...?_ Geno stared at him, focus terribly split between the sensations and the nervous tremble in Cross' grin. "Wh...what kind...?"

"Um..." Cross faltered. "Chocolate...? I've... stumbled across several stashes hidden in odd places. But I did also see some plain vanilla mixes. Perhaps we can craft some butterscotch cupcakes?"

Sci hesitated for a moment. Almost distracted by the conversation meant for his patient. At the slightest of tilts hinting at Geno starting to notice though, he kept going, and Cross hurried to add, "We can melt the butterscotch into some different shapes?"

That seemed to ease and intrigue Geno for a moment. "That... that sounds good..."

 _Smart,_ the others marveled.

The tension in Reaper's shoulders eased slightly. _Getting Geno back into the kitchen with something that wouldn't involve knives... well done,_ he praised mentally.

After a few more dessert ideas between the two, Sci retreated and took his gloves off. "Great job. You're healing up really nicely and as long as you refrain from messing around down there for another couple weeks, you should be fine. Also, thanks for not kicking me again." Just to be sure, Sci stepped further away from Geno, towards the downstairs powder room, to toss his gloves away and wash his hands.

Geno visibly relaxed once Sci was out of visual range, though the others could see he wasn't done being stressed. There was still Marigold... poor, potentially deaf Marigold. Merci seemed fine but... _I agreed to have them **both** checked... _Geno reminded himself. How was it possible to feel both dread and relief?

Kneeling by his bag once he returned, Sci hummed to himself while he refiled around for a fresh pair of gloves. "Would someone mind grabbing me a few towels to spread across the table here? I want the twins on the flat surface when I check them out, but they could do with something soft, too. Ah, make sure they're clean, please."

"No shit," Error grumbled, checking over Geno before heading towards the stairs. "What, you think we're going to let our kids sit on dirty towels?"

 _'Our kids,' hm? So, the destroyer considers the twins as his children as well? Or was he merely generalizing?_ "Your sarcasm is appreciated," he said dully, finally finding the box he was looking for and snapping his gloves into place. Yes, he liked the sound. "You'd be surprised just how much idiocy is out in the world. I learned long ago that it's better to be as clear as possible when directing others, lest you end up inspecting infants on filthy surfaces due to the irresponsibility of their parents. Oh, your towels a nice shade of blue."

"Whatever," Error scoffed, handing the small pile over before reclaiming his spot by Geno.

Sci grinned, far from phased by Error's gruff personality. "I'll take the younger twin first. I can hear her wheezing from here."

Geno was torn between clinging to the elder twin and hovering around Sci to make sure he didn't hurt Merci. Even with his doubt about Merci's eyes earlier, _that's still my daughter..._ and those protective feelings outweighed his fears... somewhat.

Reaper stepped forward and set Merci down on the towel, reluctant to move too far away when Sci sat down at the coffee table to check on her.

Although few would admit it, everyone was tense as they observed the examination, watching closely as Sci muttered and hummed to himself. "Well?" Reaper pushed, unable to go more than a few minutes without trying to weasel some form of information from the scientist. _Is that concern? Fear?_

"She definitely has asthma." Sci concluded, listening closely as the poor little thing struggled her way through breathing. "I was kidding about the wheezing earlier, but she doesn't seem all that far from that point. You can see a few of the physical signs, too. Look," he gestured to his stomach, but whatever Sci saw as a cause for concern wasn't noticeable to the group. "It's good you didn't go too long without requesting my help. I had some concerns during the birth, so I have a request for a nebulizer and medication prepared."

"And you're only just giving it to us _now?"_ Error hissed.

Sci shrugged. "I think the bruise forming on my face is adequate reasoning as to why I waited for _you_ to contact me. We can schedule regular appointments from here on out if you'd like? Asthma in skeletons is usually a sign of poor development as a fetus, so it may suit you to have her monitored frequently. With luck, her body will correct her breathing as she ages and forms more of her own magic. If not? Well, she'll need inhalers throughout her life. Any questions?"

 _"Any questions?"_ As if they weren't brewing with questions right now? Taking in all of their expressions, Sci sighed, "I'll hand over the prescription for the nebulizer. Later. What of the other one though? Marigold?"

Ink stepped forward with Geno inching closer behind. Sure, everyone was worried about Merci and her breathing, but they were arguably more worried about the smaller twin. _As evidenced by how slowly he's putting the child down,_ Sci noted. It took nearly a third of that time for the artist to pick his daughter up. Sci kept a socket on the way Geno kept inching closer despite the apparent danger the scientist had posed to the mother only minutes earlier. Huh... He decided to ignore the other for the moment and focus on Marigold.

If he remembered correctly, which he knew he did, the concern was with the boy's hearing. That might've been the more obvious one, but if the hearing was one thing then...

 _More developmental disabilities, yay._ Sci thought with a quiet sigh. He... had absolutely no clue what he was doing. In all honesty, he wasn't even sure how to go about testing a skeleton child for something like this. Was it different than testing humans? The same? _I should have done more reading..._ Noticing the tense expressions worn by the others, Sci plastered on a bland, professional smile and decided to try a few tests. Nothing formal. Just...

Without warning, he _screamed,_ unintentionally sending the others into a panic. "Oh, how interesting," Sci murmured, ignoring the questions sent his way and Merciful's startled wails. "He's quite obviously hard of hearing, but..." A few snaps, some claps, another sudden shout. Nodding to himself, Sci gently raised Marigold's skull a bit and tried snapped his fingers as close to the little one's head as he could get without touching him. At the noisy motion, Marigold blinked; startled. A little confused? "Ah, so he can hear. Far from well, but there's a small reaction there."

"He... he isn't deaf...?" Geno whispered, pressed close to Ink as the artist rocked and soothed the younger twin. "At least, not-"

"Completely? No. I'd say it's a close thing, but he's definitely reacting." Switching hands, Sci snapped a few times on the other side of Marigold's skull. Again, the little thing startled. "It seems like you have to get as close as possible to his skull for any sound to register. I can't tell how much of that sound is making it through, but he's picking up something. What I'm concerned about is his health. Given his difficulties hearing, as well as his sight-"

"Sight?" Ink interrupted, frowning.

Raising a brow, Sci nodded. "He's squinting pretty hard, don't you think? I'm not an eye specialist," _hell, I'm not sure how accurate I am on his hearing,_ "so you'll have to make a separate appointment for that with someone else. But anyway! Poor hearing and sight fall under developmental disorders. Has he fallen ill at all? It's clear he didn't develop properly as a souling, so I'd be concerned about his immune system as well. Us monsters are heavily dependent on magic, after all, skeletons more so than others, and if these issues and his size are any indication... well, he's going to need close monitoring as well."

All things they were suspicious of, but to have them confirmed... Stars, it was terrible. Thankfully, neither of the twins had fallen ill. Yet. After all, it was only a matter of time, wasn't it? _Gods, I... I don't want to think about that,_ Ink thought, frowning and murmuring his thanks to Sci.

Said scientist stepped aside so Geno could scoop Marigold back up into his arms. He wrote down some things and ripped the page out, passing it to Reaper, and packed up his things. "I can start studying up on these things, but I really think a professional is going to benefit you in the long run."

 _Another stranger..._ Reaper and Ink exchanged glances.

 _Unless..._ Reaper narrowed his sockets in thought, pushing himself to thank Sci for his help today. The others echoed him, though with a similar vein of enthusiasm. This time, when Sci smiled, it was more a small thing, meant to reassure them, "If you need anything, I'm just a call away." _Gods, I have to hit the books._ So, with that in mind, he took his leave. 

The moment the door closed, Geno sunk to his knees and sobbed.

All at once, everyone stepped forward with the intent of comforting the glitch, but Reaper managed to get there first. "Shhh," he gently hushed, carefully tucking Marigold between them as he pulled Geno into a hug. "Gen, please don't cry. We... we're going to tackle this together, okay? The twins are going to be fine."

"It... it's my fault," Geno sobbed, Sci's words cycling through his head like a mantra. "They d-didn't develop properly, Reaper. They didn't- Merci can't b-breathe and Mari can't see well _or_ hear and _it's all my fault."_

He didn't eat enough for them.

He didn't protect them.

He couldn't even carry them to full term.

"It's all my fault!" he wailed again, accusations turning into self-hatred and humiliation. How many times was he going to cause a scene and cry? _Pathetic. **Weak.** You need to stop crying at the drop of a hat. Stop crying, stop crying, stop cry-_

Merciful stirred, not yet dried cheeks gleaming with a new wave of tears.

Ink noticed first, still holding his daughter as he was. It reminded him of the soul glow when they were still imprisoned. The way the souling seemed to mimic the colors that the husbands were feeling-

"Oh gods..." He whispered.

In his arms, Merci continuned to wail.


	18. Merciful Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ink and Dream discuss Merciful and some day dreaming takes place.

Once the thought entered his head, all the evidence Cree didn't realize he had gathered clicked into place, like pieces of a puzzle neatly coming together. _No... no, no. She can't-_ but she could be. She... she _was_ , wasn't she? And Cree didn't know what to do.

 _She's too young, she doesn't understand-_ anything, really. Not what she was feeling, or why. And gods, how quickly did something like this start? At birth? Before birth, as a souling?

Ink swallowed, suddenly feeling ill. Horrified.

 _Did she experience all of Geno's- but no. No, he..._ Ink took all of his smallest husband's pain. Merciful wouldn't have- _but what if I'm wrong? What about the days I messed up, or when they made me let the connection go?_ Did she feel pain then?

Did Ink let his own child suffer?

_"A protector? Tch, you're fooling yourself if you believe that's what you still are, Cree."_

"Ink...?"

The artist barely glanced at who called out to him. Error... _heh, of course Error would notice first..._ He was always in tuned to the artist, even if he wouldn't admit it. It was usually kinda cute, but right now it was a little stressful. "R-Ru," he choked out, cursing himself for coming off as weak when he tried to aim for strong. 

Quickly, the destroyer was there, hands hovering anxiously around Merci and Ink. "What? What happened?"

"I....I th-think- _she might be an empath,"_ he whispered, wincing at how the words coming into reality made that same reality seem to shatter.

Error blinked, not quite understanding why this was a cause for concern. As Ink continued to silently panic however and Merciful's distress grew, his expression shifted to one of realization.

_She's not crying because **she's** upset._

"Take her to the other room," Error hissed, shooting a look at Geno who was caught up in his own distress and the comfort Reaper and Cross were currently trying to provide. "Fuck, give her... space? Shit, I don't know, but- get Dream, damnit. You're both- _figure this out!"_

Ink nodded numbly, sparing a regretful glance at Geno's distraught expression before backing out of the room. With a bit of distance, Merciful seemed to calm, but Ink could tell that she was leeching his own upset. It took a few tries, but he eased a wobbly shield around himself and relaxed slightly when her cries quieted the slightest bit more. _Good... good, this is helping... I think..._

"Dream?" he called, trying not to be too loud. _Don't alert Gen that something is wrong, don't add to the chaos._

A few more calls had the guardian emerging, concerned. "What's-"

"She's an empath," Ink explained, voice shaking. "She- _fuck_ , Dream...! I d-don't-"

Dream stepped closer. "Easy, Ink... Take it easy. May I see her?"

Nodding, he passed his daughter over and watched closely. Dream was already extraordinarily good with a shield around his emotions. Even as simply a guardian, his emotions seemed to influence those around him, which was good at times! But during others... well, he learned to guard himself and to do so well. With his memories, and the extent of his powers returned, he's had to learn to guard even those powers too. All in all, the golden eyed skeleton had practice. A lot of practice.

And with all that, Merci appeared to calm down even more in his arms.

Dream frowned worriedly, yet not to the same degree as Ink. "We're going to need to keep an eye on her. Not just because of her health, but... well, first we need to determine the strength of her abilities. Empathy is rare, especially in children this young..."

_"How come arts 'n' crafts makes you blue? S'fun, not blue! Fun!" Starry eyelights twinkled, spinning with excitement as the little skeleton grinned. "Be yellow with me! Yellowyellowyellow!"_

_Unable to hold onto his sorrow in the face of such genuine happiness, he smiled. With that, his world seemed just a little bit brighter. Happier._

_His little star always had that effect on him._

Seemingly forgotten, Ink paused as he watched Dream handle Merciful. Still teary, the little bundle sniffled and hiccupped, but she was calming by the second; at peace in the guardian's hold. As for Dream... _I... I've never seen him smile like that..._ It was a sweet smile, like many of Dream's were, but... _but what?_ He couldn't think of the word. All Ink knew was that he liked it.

If only the faraway look in the other's eyes didn't corrupt the sweet look with worry. "...Dream? Did you... have more to say?"

"We just have to help them learn it," he murmured.

_Them...?_

Ink frowned, "You... you think Marigold might...?"

"Hm? Oh, um," Dream blinked, shaking his head slightly, then nodding. "If Merciful is showcasing empathic abilities, then Marigold may soon present the same gift. For all we know, he could be doing so _now,_ but to a lesser degree." Frowning slightly, Dream gently rocked his little star and smoothed a hand over Palette's tiny skull. He was so small- _She_ , Dream mentally correctly before pausing. _Wait, no... that's not-_

"We're going to need to teach the others how to shield," Ink murmured, concerned. "Stars, a household this size...? She could be feeling so much, Dream. What if it's hurting her?"

"What...? N-no... no she isn't in pain, she's just... confused. It's like.... she's..." Dream hesitated. What was even the right term? It was too much at once. It was like she was sensitive to it, much more so than her brother. _Can you see the colors? Can you feel it? Or **both**...?_ "It might be upsetting her, to where she's overloaded with it, but it's more confusing and uncomfortable than hurting her... I think."

_But for how long will it just be confusing?_

"We'll help, Ink. We'll do what we can. For all of them, okay?"

The artist was far from pleased, but nodded. "I..." he hesitated, ashamed to admit his weaknesses, especially to Posi. Cute, sweet Posi who looked up to him way back when. _But that changed. He's changed,_ and Dream would likely kick his ass if he held out on him now, no matter how pitiful Ink felt. "...Can... can you help her?" he whispered.

"Of course, Ink, we'll-"

"No, can... can _you_ help her. Dream... _Pos,_ I..." he averted his gaze, upset. "So far, all I know how to do is take and shield _myself_. She- are you able to expand barriers to others? Can you... I don't know, put her in a bubble of sorts? Cut her off-"

"No," Dream interrupted, immediately shooting the idea down. "Ink, this... we don't know how long she's had these abilities; if she's been aware of the emotion around her even before her birth or if empathy is new to her. Since we can't be sure, we have to be careful because _she's used to being overwhelmed with emotion._ We can't just cut her off completely. It could shock her, or terrify her, or- I don't know, but easing away emotion and limiting the amount of caretakers she has is the best option for her. Honestly, this is something we're just going to have to wing until she's old enough to communicate with us."

There was so much in the statement to worry over, but... "You want us to _isolate_ her?" 

"No," Dream frowned, "Well, not... entirely? I don't want to keep her in a room all by herself, Ink. I just... I want to make sure she doesn't end up feeling too much. Currently, Geno is responsible for a majority of her care. I know we've been worried about him taking on too much responsibility, but... at the moment, letting Gen run things may be the best option. Even if these abilities weren't established in the womb, its likely that Merciful is most familiar with the sensation of Geno's emotions so having him around may provide a sense of comfort. The same goes with Marigold."  
  
Logical, and yet... "Dream," Ink began, his voice a mere whisper, "I understand your reasoning, but... Gen..."

"Isn't stable." Neither of them liked the sound of that, but... but there was truth there, wasn't there? "I know, Ink. I know. Unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that Geno is _familiar._ He carried her, hon. Not to full term, but seven months is still a long time to house a souling. In addition to that, he's rarely been separated from the twins since birthing them. We can keep an eye on his emotions--I _know_ you bonded with him--but... Ink, trust me when I say separating them could be bad."

_Much like the sound of shrieking cries in the distance, the noise made by his feet slapping against the floor was lost beneath the loud drumming of his heart and his own panicked breathing as he ran through winding, senseless hallways. "Stupid, stupid," he gasped, berating himself for his foolishness. "How... how could you leave him all alone? How could-" He slid as he rounded the corner, and a grunt escaped him upon slamming into the wall. It hurt a bit, but he shook the pain off and continued to run. "Foolish, foolish Posi...!"_

_He only meant to leave his little star for a few moments. Just a few. He always underestimated just how long it truly took to feed Palette, so he ended up going without breakfast. By the time his little one settled for a nap however, he realized that he missed lunch as well. Oh, but his starshine could be woken so easily, so he reasoned that he would leave him in the crib for just a bit; for only as long as he needed to snack._

_Posi didn't even remember closing his eyes._

_And now, his little star was crying. Lonely, he could tell, and oh how that loneliness made the distance between them feel so wide. "Don't... don't cry..." he urged, tossing the door to his bedroom open and collapsing by the bed. With careful motions, he gently pulled the shrieking bundle into his arms._

_Instantly, Palette ceased his crying._

_The loneliness was gone._

_"There we go, little star," he whispered, "Mama won't leave you ever again." Sleepy despite lingering panick, he blinked slowly. Once, twice, thrice..._

_Green eyes watched him with interest. "Who knew that the very source of kindness could be so cruel? Very well, brother. I'll erase the memories you requested."_

_What?_

_"Oh, but we should go about this safely, don't you think? After all, if you forget for good, then you forget **him** forever. We can call this a fail-safe. So..." Neggy smiled. Exhausted as he was, he couldn't help but think that it looked... odd. Pleased in a way he couldn't describe beyond unsettling. "Why don't you tell me where you hid your son first, hm?"_

_And of course, Posi... did?_

_No, he... he didn't. Right? Hiding Palette was for safety, because Cree said-_

_What did Cree say?_

_"Come now, you can trust me, Posipaws. Tell me where he is."_

_Posi told him._

_No... no, he didn't._

_Or did he?_

_He... he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember-_

_Starry eyelights gazed up at him, glittering with a shiny sheen of tears. "Mama will come back for me, right?"_

_"Of course I will, Palette."_

_But he didn't._

_He didn't._

_He-_

**"It's too early for you to remember, little brother."**

And just like that, he blinked and found his thoughts clear. "Anyways, keeping Merciful with Geno and her brother is the best option for now. If it ever seems like Merciful is mimicking emotion or reflecting anything traumatizing, _then_ we'll try distancing her for a bit, but I really am firm on keeping them together in order to keep her content. Does this all make sense?"

Slowly, Ink nodded. "Yeah..." _Of course that makes sense._

Nodding, Dream smiled down at the sniffling infant and tried to think of what would come next. His found his thoughts oddly absent however, so he merely decided to move on from heavy conversation for now instead. "She's really cute."

Ink cracked a smile. No matter how lost he felt, he couldn't help but submit to the sense of fatherly pride that filled him at the compliment. "Her eyelights are a bit strange, but swirls are a type of shape, I guess. The color of them though..."

"...They're like Reaper's," Dream decided, not wanting to feed into any doubts Ink may be experiencing. "A little greener, but... the lighter, softer hue is the same as his cyan." With a light touch, he skimmed over her cheek with a thumb, just below her right eye. "...I think Geno's been... worried. About her eyes, I mean."

 _Oh, Gen..._ "It's the wrong green, but... Still, it's a version of the color. And Gen is still... wary. Of us, the house... everything, it seems. I don't blame him for being nervous over Merci though, not when I can still that he still loves her." A little nervous, Ink reached out and breathed a relieved sigh when the little skeleton didn't react poorly to his own touch. "Stars, he loves her so, so much... We all do..."

Content for the moment, Merciful dropped her adorable grin and squeezed her eyes shut in a powerful little yawn. There was the slightest hitch in her breathing afterwards that had them tensing, but neither could sense any sort of pain. Similarly, they couldn't see any signs of distress or struggle either. Still...

"Here, come take her, Ink. I heard Sci mention something about a prescription, so I'm going to run out and see about getting whatever medication he set up for her."

Dream passed her back to her father's arms, hesitating for a moment. The action was small, and yet something tugged in Dream's SOUL. A missing something that- he shoved aside for the moment. He needed to focus on the here and now, and that here and now involved helping his family. _This is your child too. You need to do well for her._ And yet, he lingered for just a moment, watching.

Ink dropped his gaze to Merci, smiling softly as she adjusted to his hold and began to doze. Though it didn't seem like much distance, evidently there was enough between her and the emotional mess downstairs that she seemed at peace. _Sci said she had breathing problems, but didn't really check for much else... would her spirals cause some sort of problems with her vision...?_ he tried to think about his own eyelights. Granted, it was rare that he could feel the difference between the shapes in his eyes, but... he wasn't sure his vision was ever better or worse with different symbols. _More things to keep an eye on, huh?_ He smiled a little at the stupid pun, gently rubbing the side of her head. "You rest up, Merce... you're gonna need it to grow up strong."

As if in agreement with her father, Merciful slept on.


	19. Beans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the twins are cute little beans. Oh yeah, and decisons and stuff are made.

It was amazing how two infants could make just a few weeks going by feel like _years._

Merciful shrieked, sobbing loudly as if broken by her father's betrayal. With a helpless expression, Reaper adjusted his hold on the squirming little thing as he caught small, fragile hands before they could push at the device over her face.

"I'm sorry, honey," he crooned, adjusting her again so that Merci was propped up at a better angle. "Daddy knows that you're afraid of the scary machine, but it helps you breathe. We don't want you sounding like a squeaky toy, do we?" Wide, miserable sockets stared up at him, wet with tears. "You're breaking my heart with that look, honey."

Hiccupping, Merci tried to pull her hands out of his hold to push the nebulizer mask off yet again. When Reaper held firm, she shrieked with a wail that quickly broke off into a series of concerning coughs and wheezes. _Sci said she doesn't need a hospital,_ he reminded himself when his worry grew. All he had to do was give her the medication and help monitor her.

Merci coughed again, harder. Louder. When she couldn't get in the oxygen she needed, she squirmed and kicked out, the sound of her wheezing nearly drowned out by the way Reaper's own pounding heartbeat seemed to echo in his nonexistent ears.

He couldn't bring himself to relax until the medication finally kicked in, easing Merciful's struggles and calming her from her fit.

Well, most of her fit, because she still stared up at Reaper with tears gleaming in her sockets. _Gods, this is so hard..._ He rubbed her head soothingly, snuggling her in his arms. He draped his wings around her, effectively hiding the somewhat noisy machine so she could focus on him better. "There..." he cooed softly. "There you go, hatchling..." She blinked placidly up at him, almost cooing back in response.

 _I think, next time, we'll let this stupid thing run for a bit so she won't have to struggle as hard..._ Of course thinking about it now seemed fairly obvious, yet... he sighed, not having the energy to beat himself up today.

When the opportunity to stay home with his children came up, Reaper snatched it. Sure, going to a meeting with a bunch of other gods to discuss duties and multiversal balances was good and all.... buuuuut it was boring, and he just didn't want to be in a room with people who hated him. He'd rather be here, unintentionally scarring his daughter with the machine that's helping her.

On cue, Merciful reached out and grasped one of his primary feathers. Then, she _tugged._

Gently uncurling her tiny fist from that source of pain, Reaper croaked, "That hurts honey, please don't do that," and combed through his own feathers for a moment. Upon finding a loose one, he plucked it painlessly and passed it to her. "You can touch this one instead, okay?"

Little, stocky phalanges curled around the feather and waved, shaking it about like a broken, soundless rattle yet seeming pleased all the same. "Blrrrp..." barely audible over the noise of the machine, Merciful crooned. What could have been a chirp or a squeaky cough followed.

"Are you trying to talk to your daddy?" Reaper crooned back, mentally counting down the seconds until he could free her from her helpful hell. She was appeased for now, but he knew it wouldn't last with just how much Merci hated the nebulizer. _We should have kept a better eye on you..._ but it was... well, hard.

Even in his head that seemed like such a pitiful excuse, but there was truth to the thought. They had more parental hands than most to help with the twins, but it was difficult to juggle Merci's needs on top of Mar's and those of the older children. Still, they were trying. They were learning, and now that they had a good idea of how many people could crowd around Merci at once without overwhelming her, things would hopefully go smoother. Hopefully.

 _You and your brother shouldn't suffer our inadequacy..._ he thought, though he shouldered most of the blame. With his work, he offered the least amount of help with his very own children. Out of everyone, he struggled the most when it came to giving the twins their individual medications, too. _I need to do better._

She squirmed and made a sharp crying noise, reaching out to him, "Buh buh buh," she whined.

"No honey, not yet. It's still gonna be a couple more minutes."

Again, Merci blinked up at him and wiggled the feather about, seemingly amused at how it caught the light. Reaper relaxed slightly. _Still distracted,_ he thought with a relieved smile. He watched her play with the feather as he begun to think about when Goth got his wings in, and if Mar and Merci would-

"O-oh...." but would they...? With their health the way they were now, their wings might end up.... he took a shaky breath and cooed at her some more. "You're doing such a good job, my little Merci..."

Breathing calmed, Merci smiled up at him through her little mask, gurgling. Happy.

_Alive._

"Do you want to go check up on your brother, hm?" He crooned, checking on the time. "We have to stay put for a few more minutes, but how does that sound? Do you like that?"

Unable to understand him but adoring the musical quality of her father's voice, Merci gurgled more, pleased, and tapped his face with the feather. Apparently, this was now her new favorite toy. "Buh...! Buh!"

"Ah, so you _do_ miss your brother!"

"Buh!"

"What about Mama? Do you miss him too? It's been at _least_ ten minutes since he checked in last. That's, like, a lifetime! Do you miss Mama? Do you?"

"Buh! Buh blrrrp!"

Reaper chuckled, pressing a kiss to her skull. "We'll see them soon, honey. Promise."

He ended up gifting another detached feather to his daughter before the timer went off for the machine, and he was able to free her from it. "There you go!" he cooed happily to her, smiling when she visibly brightened and waved the feathers in his face frantically.

"Aah! A-" she sneezed loudly then, startling before bursting into tears.

"O-oh," _oh no..._ Reaper held her close, absently switching off the machine to wipe her face and nuzzle cheeks with her. "It's okay..." he soothed. "You're gonna be okay, Merci..." he worked in some soft bird noises that attracted her sniffley attention up to him. "There, see?" he smiled softly. "You're alright! Just a little sneeze that surprised you honey."

"Da..."

Reaper perked up. "What?" It was much too soon for her to know words right? It... it was just noises, and yet... "Did you just call me dad?"

Merci stared up at him blankly, a line of drool making it's way down her chin sluggishly. When Reaper moved to wipe it, she turned her head and tried to bite his finger, earning a small chuckle.

"Ah, someone seems hungry." Wiping the little mess away, Reaper made sure that the machine was out of the way before standing with Merciful cradled close to his chest. Immediately, she turned towards him and tugged at the fabric over his chest, yearning. "A-ah, no. _No,_ Merciful. I'm _daddy_ , remember? There's nothing there for you."

Gurgling around the feather she now had stuck in her mouth, Merci tugged again. This time, she seemed determined. "Buh... bah! _Dah!"_

"Exactly! Dah! I'm your Dah, your dad!"

"Dah buh... da!"

"Yes!" Okay, maybe she _was_ saying daddy? It was possible! ...Right? "Let's go find your _mama_ now. Mama. Mah-ma."

"Buh buh buh!"

 _Oh...? Buh could be close to something... like breast..._ the thought made Reaper grin some more, but he decided that teaching her that was... probably not the best idea right now. After all, if Geno were to be called 'breast' by his daughter instead of mama, it would probably break his heart. Even if it would be funny the first few times.

"Well, either way!" Reaper chirped cheerfully, carrying her to Geno. "We'll get you your stuff now, Merci!"

The glitch looked up, relief and weariness in his socket as he watched Reaper and Merci approach. Marigold was snuggled against his chest, and it looked like the boy had just had his own meal. "I was wondering when she'd get hungry," Geno murmured. "How was the nebulizer?"

"She didn't like it at first, but she seems okay now. Are you doing okay?"

They exchanged children and Geno covered himself to start feeding Merci. "I'm fine, Reaps..."

Off in the corner, Cross was asleep, a book on parenting being bookmarked by his thumb. The god noticed and tilted his head curiously to Geno, who smiled. "He wanted to learn more about what to expect for the kids, and I told him that they're already deviating a lot from what... _'normal'_ children should be experiencing. You wanna know what he said? Heh... he said: 'This is probably going to be their normal, so we should just figure out how to support them.' Heh..." Geno chuckled a little, his sockets growing wet. "...I know Error's interested in him, and Spright's still iffy, but... if the others are okay, I think we should ask him if he'd like to date us..."

Reaper stared, slack-jawed at Geno.

Beneath the wet sheen glossing over his eyelight, there was fire. _Determination,_ which came to define Geno quite a bit after all all he faced. "Gen..."

"I like him." His voice shook, but that didn't take away from the strength Geno was trying to showcase. "I... I really, really like him, Reaps. And maybe it's... I don't know, a little fucked up given his role... _there_ , but he-" Geno swallowed, fighting to keep his gaze on Reaper's. _Don't look away, don't... don't be weak._ "I know I'm not doing well. I know you've been treading on eggshells around me, and that the others have been too. I also know that it could have been worse though, Reaps, and... and that Cross is a big part of the reason why _it isn't."_

"Gen..."

"He fed me," Geno blurted, desperate to get the other to see things his way. "Being caught once would have ended him Reaps, but Cross kept giving me what he could. And he let me talk when I needed it, even if he couldn't always respond, or had to be cold. He-" Tears spilled down his cheeks when old, festering guilt bubbled over within him. "...He’s _scarred_ because he tried to protect me. Because _I_ threw that back in his face by _clawing at him_ , but he doesn't blame me. And when I asked-"

_Cross paused, looking lost after Geno's question. "...Why... would I be upset with you...?" he questioned instead of providing an answer. "I mean, if anyone was going to be upset, it'd be you, wouldn't it? I kept you from opening the door when you thought it was Reaper-"_

_"It wasn't Reaper though, and... and you were trying to keep me from breaking the rules. From being p-punished. Instead of being thankful, I... I **hurt** you. I-"_

_"Was afraid." Cross interrupted. "I... I'm not a good person, Geno, but I'm not so terrible a guy that I'd blame you for a little scar that you gave me in a moment of complete and utter desperation. You **thought it was Reaper** and I was in the way. I'm not mad."_

_Even with tears obscuring his vision, Geno could that Cross wasn't lying. That wasn't anger in his expression, after all._

_It was shame._

"...He's a good person..." Geno whispered. "And... and I... Reaps, I-"

"I like him too."

"N-no, Reaps, just h-hear me ou-" he paused and stared up at him. "You....?"

"I like him too, Gen," Reaper murmured, settling himself down on the bed at his feet and sending a smile Geno's way. "And I'm sure the others feel the same way, too. Let's ask them together, later?"

Relaxing a little, Geno smiled back. "Y-yeah..." More firmly, he grinned, "Yeah...!" though the smile faded slightly and a his eyelight flicked over to Cross. "...do you think-"

"I think he'll probably give us a shot, but," Reaper readjusted his hold on Mal and murmured, "I think we should let him decide."

Nodding, Geno murmured, "R...right...."

He'd be... upset if Cross said no, but he didn't want to force his own feelings onto the other skeleton. And they could still be friends, right? It would hurt for a while, but... it was possible.

 _I won't cry if he says no,_ he told himself, wincing slightly when Merci's teeth came together around his nipple a little too hard. "Please don't bite Mama, honey." Thankfully, she wasn't as terrible as Marigold could be during his meals. For someone so small, he was... vicious. _I'm glad he doesn't seem to have any fangs._ His chest wouldn't survive breastfeeding without scars if he did.

_Scars..._

Shuddering, he adjusted both his hold on Merci and the blanket helping with his privacy. _I don't want them to see..._ not his nudity, or the perfect imprint of Nightmare's cruel teeth on his chest, right over his heart. "W... what time is it? Mar needs his supplements a half hour after meals."

Trilling to Marigold, Reaper glanced at the nearest clock and read Geno the time. "When will it be half an hour?"

"Not for another twenty minutes," Geno murmured, leaning back to support himself as Merciful continued to feed. "...S-so, be honest, what do you really think our chances with Cross are?"

"Gen..."

"Ten? Twenty percent?"

"Gen-"

"Actually," Cross began, voice thick with sleep and smile sheepish when both glitch and god spun to face him. "It's more like... a hundred?"

"Cross!" Reaper chirped.

Geno blushed vibrantly and ducked his head away. "R-really...?"

He hummed in response and yawned widely, subtly stretching out his legs. "How long was I out...?"

"For a bit!" Geno squeaked, avoiding his gaze. "It's... no big deal."

"Mm...." sockets fluttered closed, and Cross slumped in his seat again, before stirring and shaking his head. "I'll go make some sandwiches..."

Geno avoided the look Reaper sent his way as the ex-second made his way out, blushing. "Not a word," he warned, hiding a small smile by turning his head. Within moments, the pleasant expression shriveled up. "...Are we rushing things?"

Adjusting his hold on Marigold when the little thing squirmed, Reaper smiled down at the babybones and tickled his cheek while mulling over the question. "...Honestly? I don't know, Gen. There's... how do you go about deciding what is or isn't too soon? We haven't been out for long, but... we've been around Cross for months now." _But how many weeks did we waste hating him for something he never did...?_ "I can't answer your question, Gen. Not in a way that'll clear anything up." Smiling when Mar curled his little hands around one of his fingers, Reaper hummed. "...hey hon?"

Already knowing what was coming, the glitch dropped his gaze. "...Yeah?"

"Do _you_ think we're rushing things?" The words felt like poison on his tongue, but Reaper took a steadying breath before getting them out, whispering, "After... after everything that happened, do... Gen, _he_ hurt you. In... in a pretty terrible way. Dating after that... I can't say how difficult it is, but I'm sure its not easy."

"I'm the one that brought dating him up," Geno whispered.

Reaper softened. "And it's okay to realize you may not be ready. I just... I want you to feel sure about this. _Safe."_

"Safe...?" Geno echoed, studying Marigold for a moment. "I... I don't know... I feel safe with him, but... there's this... _apprehension._ Like... like that safety's going to be gone when he's gone."

Those moments when Negativity came back.

"I don't know," Geno whispered, though he straightened and tried for a smile. "But I _do_ know that I don't want to be stuck like this... I don't want to be afraid of you or the others."

"We don't want you to be afraid of us either," Reaper murmured. "I know... Dream and Ink still have some... healing to do for themselves, but... I know we're all going to help each other as much as we can, right?"

Geno forced strength into his smile, "...Right."

_We... we'll make it through this. Together._

* * *

With a grunt, he pulled himself from the pliant form beneath him. "Well?" he purred after quite some time, bringing forth a tendril to ensure little of his precious essence escaped.

"...I... don't know..." breathing heavily after such exertion, the skeleton beneath him panted, "Only time will tell."

"I expect success. So far, all you've presented me with is failure. One more and... well, I suppose I'll leave you to worry over what fate possibly awaits you. For now, dismissed. I'll send for you soon."

"...Yes, my King."


	20. Chef Cross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cross whips up lunch for the family. Yep, that's it:)

Downstairs, Cross slowly lowered himself onto a chair in the kitchen, blushing. "...Holy... holy shit..." he whispered, stunned. _I got asked out. By two people._ That was... two more than he ever expected, three if you counted the... thing he had going on with Error. "Holy shit," he repeated for a lack of anything better to say.

"Holy shit!"

Oh gods, that... that was definitely not the voice of an adult.

With dread, Cross turned towards that voice and tried for a smile. "H...hey.... Goth...? U-um, you shouldn't-"

"Shit!"

Cross flinched. "Yeah... yeah, you shouldn't say that word-"

Goth stared up at him with a sudden scowl. "You said it! Dunkle Error says it all the time! Sometimes mommy and daddy will say it too! Shit! Shit shit shit!"

_Fuck, they're going to kill me..._

As if sensing his dread, Goth huffed, "Fuck!" for good measure, little arms crossed and scowl deepening with far too much anger for someone so small to contain. "I'm not little anymore, y'know? I can _fly!_ And daddy says that only big boys can fly!"

Cross glanced around, pleading for someone, anyone, to come around to save him. "Um, Goth..." When no one came, he hid his fear behind a smile and slid from his chair to kneel down. "Okay, so... you know there's a difference between being a big boy and an adult right?"

"Adults can have sex!"

_What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck._ "That's... true, but adults can swear, too. Um, adults are the _only_ ones who can swear. Do you understand? Just because you're capable of saying these words doesn't mean you're old enough to. Or that you should."

Scowling even harder, Goth tried to stare Cross down. As if that would change his mind?

Heh, well it almost did.

With the years of keeping his emotions hidden, it was easy for Cross to pretend he wasn't at all affected by the little guy's rage.

"So.... you shouldn't swear either!" Goth demanded.

"I'm an adult-"

"But you said that just cuz you're capable, doesn't mean you _should!_ Like... like wanting to hug someone that doesn't wanna be hugged! Just cuz I _can_ hug them, doesn't mean I _should_ , so then _you_ shouldn't be cursing if I can't!"

Briefly, Cross wondered what the hell the others were teaching these kids, but... well, so far they didn't seem to be _bad_ lessons, so...? "That's... true," he said slowly. "I..." didn't have a good argument.

As if he could sniff out Cross' uncertainty, Goth stepped forward with narrowed sockets and an even deeper scowl. "If I can't swear, then _you_ can't either, daddy! Cause then it doesn't make sense! So, you can't say bad words anymore, kay? Or else _I'll_ say them."

Was... was he being blackmailed by a five year old? "Goth, this... isn't how things work, kiddo. I'm the adult, okay? That means that you-"

"Shit! Shit shit shit! Fuck!" Having said his piece, Goth stared. _Well?_ his expression seemed to say.

Cross stared back. _How... how the **fuck** was he defeated by a fucking **five year old**...?_ Though he cracked a smile. _You're certainly Geno's child, aren't you..._ "Very well, Goth. No swearing from either of us, then." _Whatthefuckwhatthefuck why am I letting him win??_

"And you gotta get me juice!"

"Nope, that's too late, buddy." _Heh, a victory for me._ "You already made the deal. Neither of us swears."

He whined. "That's not fair!"

"How isn't it fair?"

"I..." sulking now, Goth puffed his cheeks out. "I wanted juice..."

"You should ask your parents then, yeah?" At his pleading gaze, Cross blushed. "Y-your mama."

Goth sighed heavily, soul apparently that of a world-weary, aged skeleton rather than a child. "Fine," he grumbled, dropping his scowl for a pout. "You gotta shake me now though!"

_Shake him...? Oh._ Cross chuckled, offering Goth a hand. "Yeah, you're right. Let's shake on it, little guy." Once the smaller skeleton accepted his hand, they shook twice; firmly. "You drive a hard bargain."

"I don't know what that means." Goth admitted freely, making his way up onto a chair once their deal was sealed with a shake. "I'm hungry, can you feed me? I want sandwiches! Just like the way mama makes them!"

"And how does he make them...?" _Sandwiches, huh? Heh, great minds think alike_ , he thought, smiling to himself as he began pulling out what he originally planned to make. "Do you know what your mama and... bird-daddy like? I was going to make them some too."

"Mama likes hot dogs better than sandwiches!"

Cross paused for a split second, almost certain the little skeleton was messing with him now, though a glance at his open, serious expression said otherwise. "Hot dogs?"

"With extra ketchup!"

_Oh gods, that sounds good..._

"Hot dogs and sandwiches, coming right up!" Cross smiled, turning his attention back towards the kitchen.

Discarding the rules his father put into play, Goth flapped his wings and used the appendages to get himself level with the taller cabinets in the kitchen, determined. "I can help!" he announced, reaching for the fancy square plates on the top shelf. They were for special occasions only, but he always thought the shapes were cooler! "One for me, one for mama, one for daddy...s!"

Cross glanced at him, then sprinted over after a stunned doubletake. "No, no, no!" Plucking the little guy out of the air, Cross frowned. "I appreciate you wanting to help out, but... how about you do it on the floor, okay? You want to get me ketchup while I grab the plates?"

"Yes!"

Cross paused, thinking something over. "...And no drinking from the bottle, okay?"

A telling pause. "...Okay," Goth huffed, closing the cap on the bottle he definitely wasn't planning to sip from and reaching for the mustard next. "I want a hotdog sandwich! No! _Better!_ I want hotdogs and eggs!"

"How about I surprise you with something _even better_ huh?"

Round sockets gaped up at him. "Even better than hotdogs and eggs?"

"Yeah," Cross winked, feeling immediately dorky, though not regretting it in the slightest. "Go grab the other toppings for the hotdogs and the sandwiches okay? And round up the others!"

Still almost starry-eyed and excited for what could be greater than hotdogs and eggs, Goth sent out a loud, cheerful chirp and threw the things onto the table before storming up the stairs. "DADDY CROSS IS MAKING FOOD!" he screeched.

It took a few minutes, but those within the house slowly began to trickle in. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Error was the first one in the room, Paperjam in his arms and both sporting twin expressions of interest. "You're cooking?" he asked, giving the six year old a bounce when PJ began slipping down his hip.

"Are you really telling me you didn't hear the kid shouting?"

Error smirked, "Nah, I did, but you cooking? As in... taking the lead in the kitchen? That's pretty rare. I just wanted to make sure I heard you right."

"You did, and you should be careful about that teasing tone. After all," Cross smirked, "I'm making _that."_

At those words, Error and PJ turned their attentions to the pseudo-breakfast and lunch combo. There was sandwiches, both grilled and not, eggs, bacon, hotdogs and potatoes. It didn't seem like too much, but the mountains of food that were piled on the counters...

"Gods... you think we're going to eat all this?"

Cross shrugged and murmured. "Why not? And what isn't eaten can always be reheated for later, right?"

"...Right..." Error nodded slightly, dragging his sockets from the food back to Cross, who had his back turned and was continuing with mixing several large glasses of chocolate milk while coffee brewed in two separate pots.

It was the scent of that coffee that seemed to summon Dream, something that was a little startling because they were all sure that he was supposed to be out attending to star business.

"Gods, please tell me that's what I think it is...?" the golden eyed skeleton groaned, a slight purr to his voice as desire settled within him. "After the morning I just had, I need something hot and bitter in my mouth."

At that, Error moved to cover Paperjam's eyes and block out any sound from getting to the little skeleton. As he did so, the destroyer firmly ignored the fact that he could feel a blush rising up his neck. _I don't know what's worse; the words, his voice, or the fucking expression he's wearing._

Usually, looks like _that_ were something you'd expect to see in por-

"U-um, coffee should be ready in a minute or so," Cross mumbled, a flush of his own adding color to his face. "Is... everything okay? U-uh, with your d-duties, I mean."

Dream watched the coffee pot closely. "Now? Yes. About half an hour ago...? No. I can't go into detail, but some abnormalities presented themselves in Underlust and it was a headache to deal with it all. Luckily, Blue told me that he was more than glad to take over the assignment for me, so I got out of that mess." The guardian scowled down at his feet. It was only then that the other two realized he was missing his shoes. "Literally."

"Where did- nope, nevermind," Cross shook his head.

With his gaze still lingering on the dripping coffee pot, Dream murmured, "Need help setting up the rest of the table?"

"Actually, yes please," Cross smiled. "I'll make sure you get your glass the moment it's ready."

A smile was sent his way before Dream worked on putting out the silverware and plates. Error stood PJ up and nudged them to work on grabbing empty glasses for the table while he stepped closer to Cross. "I talked to him," the destroyer greeted. "More than a few days ago now, too. We've been... it's been good, if you haven't noticed."

Cross looked up in surprise and smiled a little. "You know your... uhm, Geno and Reaper, are interested in me?"

Surprise lit up the other's face. "I didn't realize they would say something... How'd you find out?"

"They were talking to each other and I happened to wake up... for the whole thing..."

"And what do you think?"

Cross stared at him. "You..."

"I was expecting something like this, but I'm surprised... you said Geno said something too?"

Shyly, Cross murmured, "Geno brought it up first."

"And he's not worried about rushing things?"

Cross smiled down at the last of the meal that he was preparing. There was worry in the expression, but the hope in his gaze was undeniable.

"I'd be more concerned if he wasn't a little worried, but... he wants to try, Teach. W-with me. I... I know how to read him, I think, so I can keep an eye out for any warning signs, ya know? I want to trust him when he says he can do this though. That he w-wants to. With me," Cross said, repeating that last bit with a sense of disbelief, as if this were some great honor he couldn't believe he was being blessed with.

_Maybe it is..._ Error thought, glancing up at the ceiling. Cross was a direct link to Night- to Negativity, but Geno still wanted to pursue him romantically. That... was pretty big. _Special_ , and for various reasons. "You like him then? _Both_ of them?"

"I... could do with getting to know Reaper better, but..." the scars hidden beneath his clothing stung with a phantom ache. Cross ignored it. "He's... a good man. A good p-partner. It's obvious that he cares deeply for you guys and..." _it'd be nice to be apart of that._ To be loved so fully that Death himself would bend to another's will simply to protect you. "He's pretty funny, too."

"He's an idiot."

"That's practically a compliment from you, Teach." Chuckling when the other skeleton shoved him, Cross switched off the stove and began transferring the contents of his pan to a serving dish. "Geno is... He's more than the..." terrified "...person I got to know, but that person is- _was_... really admirable, I think. I know he doesn't think it, but... but he was strong, Error; stronger than most in his position would have been. And he..."

"He...?"

"It's embarrassing." Error was Geno's brother, after all.

The destroyer narrowed his eyes. After a moment, he grinned. "You think he's cute."

"...He's so small," Cross whispered, the image of small animals and tiny characters in his mind. "Have you seen his feet? They're _tiny."_

"I swear to the gods, if you have a fucking foot fetish-"

"Who has a foot fetish?" Ink questioned, stepping into the kitchen.

"You do," Error retorted, immediately covering for the now flustered Cross.

Ink paused. With a thoughtful expression, he gripped his chin in a thinker's pose and hummed. "...I mean, I wouldn't say no to a footjob?"

"What's a-"

"NOTHING!" Desperate to stop Paperjam from ever uttering another filthy phrase, Error pulled out the big guns: Juice. "Who wants a glass?"

Predictably, Paperjam raised their hand, shouting, "Me! Mememememe!"

_I am going to murder their mother,_ Error vowed, filling a cup for PJ while glowering at Ink. "Don't tell your little brother about this, baby brat."

PJ stared up at Error with their straw in their mouth and eyes wide with innocence. _Don't tell him what?_ Excellent.

Ink, on the other hand, grinned back at him, just as innocently. _Tch._ But even then, Error couldn't help but feel his expression soften.

Away from them, Cross couldn't help but study their bantering with amusement of his own. _So... they talked things out...?_

_Good. That was... that was really good._

And perhaps there was a bit of selfishness to that thought, but... well, even Cross could admit that he deserved it. Just a little, maybe. A smidge. A...

_Stars, I'm being so selfish,_ he thought, scolding himself for being happy for the two for all the wrong reasons. He was the one that told Error he'd like to wait until after the destroyer and Ink talked things out before continuing... whatever they were going to continue. It wasn't right to feel pleased just because he... what, wanted to go on a date?

_...Would... would we even go on a date...?_ When Error pictured them together, was it... holding hands? Cuddling? He... didn't know. Stars, Cross didn't even know where to start-

"I want juice too!" Goth shrieked.

Cross jumped, startling at the little feathered one seeming to appear out of thin air. Error was quick to get the little guy the juice he requested, and... well, the guard found himself watching the former destroyer with curiosity, again. Error certainly seemed at ease, and yet, Cross wasn't sure for himself. He talked to Ink... they're making progress. _That means **we** can make progress too, right...?_

Dates with them... hanging out with the kiddos... c-cuddle a little... maybe-

_"You wanted to replace him," Nightmare hissed near his skull._

Years of training kept his expression calm. Panic hidden behind a neat shield and pretty little smile, Cross nodded to Goth and grabbed another glass, pouring more juice then setting it down. That taken care of, he finished setting up and took a seat at the table. There, nothing else to do but eat now.

So, he began to eat.

His smile didn't fall.

His hands didn't shake.

But his thoughts went and spiraled.


	21. Collision (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ink and Error... come together.

After having Geno and Reaper make their intentions known, it didn't take very long for everyone to settle into a new rhythm. 

Those who had work would leave after breakfast, Cross helped Geno in the kitchen, and whoever had the day off would help take care of the kids; switching between entertaining the oldest of the children and aiding Geno with the twins and their specific needs. It was only really one day out of the week that everyone was home, and even then, the chores were all completed with no troubles, and they allowed themselves time to have a movie night. Even Spright with his mistrust in Cross kept that more to himself, though when pressed he would begrudgingly admit that he appreciated the guard helping Geno to heal. His brother was still nowhere near being able to handle looking at knives, let alone holding one, but Spright couldn't deny that Cross helped with that, and that? That was appreciated.

 _"I don't like ya." Unflinching when Cross startled and spun around with a blade, Spright smile. "Maybe that'll change, but... right now? I don't like ya. I don't_ forgive _ya for whatcha did. But," here, he let some of the angry tension in his shoulders ease. "...So far, you're good to G. Error too. As long as you keep that up... I can deal with ya tryin' to be all lovely dovey. Just... keep somethin' in mind, yeah?"_

_"...What?" Cross murmured, wary._

_Spright's infamous glasses slid as he angled his head down, smiling wide. The lone soul in his socket peered at Cross with an eerie light. "Mess up again and I'll destroy ya... from within." Suddenly cheerful, he bump his fist against Cross' and strolled away._

Only Ink and Dream were able to sense the depth of his unease in regards to Spright, but neither of them cornered him about it. Not yet, anyways. For that, Cross was glad because it meant that he could just... kind of ignore the fact that his... b-boyfriends? Potential boyfriends? Uh, that his _something's_ younger brother was... creepy. Really, really creepy.

In truth, it was actually pretty easy to ignore Spright's creepiness whenever his... possibly-boyfriends smiled at him. Or talked with him. Or-

If it wasn't obvious, Cross was very happy. Although it wasn't exact a constant thing, _everyone_ was pretty happy.

 _And yet..._ Frowning to himself, the artist of the household eyed the paper before him. _Not everything is actually all that good, is it?_

The whole vying for the throne thing between Negativity and Dream? That was something that he and the rest of his husbands tried to not think about. Personally, he thought it was bullshit, but his vote as Lord Creativity didn't count since it was considered much too biased. In fact, Dream even told him to stay home during the process, though they were no where near an election point just yet. Still, his cute little Posi was firm on the matter, stating, "Don't even worry about Star business. You need to heal some more, and Blue and I already have this covered."

Sure, that's what Dream had said, but now, several weeks later, it was nearing three in the morning and Ink found himself staring down at the blankest sheet in his room. He only knew it had been about four hours since he left the comfortable embrace of his Error, and yet he merely stared down at the page. He hadn't even drawn a single line. Everywhere in his studio that he looked, it was empty canvases and empty walls and empty pages from too many unfinished notebooks lying open.

Oh, he had certainly tried to draw something. _Anything._ Several times. But every time his paintbrush or pencil or ink pen or even a paint tube neared closer to the page, he hesitated and paced the room another time.

Frustrated, he sighed. _I need a distraction..._

He wanted to call it fate, but Ink was well aware of the colors heading his way and expected the light knock on the door that captured his attention. "Hey..."

His gaze lifted. "Ru."

A soft groan escaped the destroyer, and Error stepped inside. "It's... way too fucking early. Come back to bed."

Ink shook his head with a small, apologetic smile. If he knew Error was going to wake, then he would have brought his sketchbook back to bed with him. Instead, he ended up worrying his husband by mistake.

Error wasn't alone in his newfound desire to know where everyone was at all times, but the destroyer's paranoia often followed him into his dreams. He didn't like waking up to an empty bed when he fell asleep to the feel of arms around him, so finding Ink gone must have left him startled. Afraid. 

"I'll head back in a bit, Ru," he murmured, accepting the destroyer's weight when Error stumbled over and slid onto his lap. Luckily, he could still see the blank page before him. Or perhaps _unfortunately_ would have been a better word?

Error nuzzled into his chest tiredly. "What're you doin?" he slurred, sliding his arms around Ink. Even half-asleep, he was careful to avoid his neck. "Can't you do art tomorrow?"

"Apparently, I can't do art at all."

The words were bitter, but quiet. They were meant only for himself but, as close as they were, Error heard them clearly.

"What, got art block, blockhead?"

"Something like that..." Ink sighed, setting his pencil down in frustration. Deciding that the outcode on his lap was much more appealing than his frustration, he set his hands on Error's hips and mustered up a smile for the sleepy skeleton when those strange eyes he loved so much blinked up at him. "I guess I'm just... stuck. I want to... to do _something_ , but I don't have a single idea in my head. No portraits, or scenery, or... anything."

Error hummed, more to inform Ink that he was listening than anything else. _Go on,_ the quiet sound said.

"I thought about just tossing paint at a canvas, but... I don't want to make something out of frustration, you know? Not after **him**... I... I want to make something I'll be proud to look at; something that'll make me..." _Happy._

The silence after Ink's words stretched so long that he might have assumed that Error fell asleep had it not been for his abilities. Still, Ink didn't push his significant other to speak. If Error had something to say, then he would say-

"Tch, idiot." Reaching behind him, Error fumbled for the edge of Ink's desk before grabbing hold of the sturdy surface and sliding back and up onto it. Sleep still lingered in his eyes, but it was something else entirely that pulled at his sockets until he watched Ink with a lidded gaze. "Paint me."

Ink paused, tilting his head to examine his husband. _That... isn't a bad idea..._ he thought, eyeing a nearby canvas with a curious gaze. Reaching out, he went to drag it closer just to find familiar strings circling his wrist, halting the action.

"No." Slowly, Error leaned back until he was sprawled across the firm surface beneath him. "Paint me," he repeated, moving to toy with the hem of his nightshirt. "...In any way you want." _With your paint, your inks... or your cum..._

Sleepy blue-greys wavered around the edges as red-pinks warmed his husband from the inside. A kernel of uncertain oranges and needy reds made themselves known, and from deeper in, a resolute Determined Red glowed steadily. "Error..." Ink rose from his seat and stepped just shy of Error's knees. He toyed with the strings, sensing no malicious intent behind them.

He checked himself for what he felt. Love, uncertainty, confusion. "Are you sure?" he whispered, wincing at the way his voice cracked. _Definitely uncertain._ Even though they had talked quite a bit before, it... well, to put it bluntly, it had been a _long_ time for either of them.

_Was this the right time? The right place? Were they really ready to accept each other like this? Was-_

Error sat up slightly and drew Ink into a soft kiss. The strings receded, instead replaced by a hand that slid to Ink's own and intertwined their fingers together. Error's other hand occupied itself with curling into Ink's robes and yanking him closer to deepen the kiss. Ink melted into the kiss, feeling strangely lightheaded and grounded into the moment. _He's serious,_ he faintly realized. Ink's own free hand rested upon Error's thigh, sliding beneath the nightshirt. The artist wasn't surprised to not find pants. Actually, he was surprised to find that Error wore some boxers to bed.

It had taken time for either of them to be comfortable enough to not wear so much clothing. That, and the fluctuating heat at night made it hard to figure out how much they should dress. If it got too cold, they at least still had the other, and their blankets but too hot?

 _This is kind of sexy..._ Ink smiled a little, eagerly pressing closer when Error parted his legs and wrapped them around his waist. _Go slow,_ he reminded himself, suddenly worried that Error was pushing himself. It didn't matter to Ink that Error's emotions were the clearest they've been in months. He... he didn't want Error to regret this in the morning...

"Aren't you going to grab a brush?" Error murmured, the words distorted due to a refusal to end their kiss.

His response left him before Ink could even think to stop them. "You can't feel my _brush_ against you?" In for a penny, in for a pound. For emphasis, Ink shifted in a way that allowed Error to better feel the interest the destroyer managed to rouse. "Are you... really sure about this though, Ruru?"

Hands crawled up Ink's abdomen. When they reached his sternum, one flattened in the center to feel the presence of Ink's SOUL beneath while the other slid up to tightly grasp the artist by the shoulder, just to hold. "You always wanted to put your paints on me, so why not do so now? It's not like _you_ have any better ideas."

Ink shook his head fondly, leaning closer to press a light kiss to his husband's mouth before starting a trail down his neck. "That's not what I meant."

"I know," Error whispered, sockets fluttering shut at the ticklish sensation of the empath's affection. He tried to ignore the golden chain around the very same neck Ink was mouthing at, not wanting anything to soil this moment. "Look, I... you can either paint on me and leave it at that, or you can make some art and then fuck it- _me_ after."

"But Error-"

"I'm horny." The admission was embarrassing, but... freeing, in a way. And really fucking terrifying, if he were honest. Fuck, he really hated being honest. "I- the last time I felt this way, it was... i-it was _him_ making my shorts wet. I wanted _his_ fucking dick, and I-" Error shuddered, feeling ill at the memory of such... desire. _Longing._ "I fucking hate it, Inky. Knowing that the last time I- it was him over me, last time. It was almost him fucking _in_ me. And I wanted it, but I _didn't_ and now-"

"You're crying..." Ink whispered.

Error grit his teeth, forcing his tears away with furious blinks. "I haven't wanted anyone _like that_ since... that moment. I hate that." His voice lowered to a pleading whisper. "But I want _you_ , Inky. And anything that happens tonight is going to be a better fucking memory than t-that."

When the destroyer gathered the courage to meet Ink's eyes again, he found his idiot- "Wh...why are _you_ crying now...?"

Surprise had the artist quickly wiping his gaze and forcing a small laugh out. "I... I want you too, Error... I just..." there was too much to say. _I'm scared. I'm worried. Are we moving too fast...? Not fast enough?_

"Don't know what to paint?"

Ink looked back to Error, smiling a moment later. "Something like that..."

Error's expression softened. Again, his hands moved, though this time it was back down Ink's body to his hips. "What if... we painted on each other afterwards...?"

 _"You_ want to paint on _me...?"_ Ink sputtered.

Beautiful gold shimmered on Error's cheeks. Even without his memories of their deeper history, the color was one that Ink so often associated with Dream, but here, in this very moment, he found himself picking out the differences. Error's blush was more yellow than gold, and had the faintest hints of green where it shown near his tears. It was bright and beautiful, and...

Purely just _Error._

"Shut up," Error grumbled, flustered by the awe in Ink's gaze. "I just- why the fuck not? Maybe I'll pretty up your stupid face."

"You love my stupid face."

Yellow deepened, and so did those little hints of green. "I love _you."_

Somehow, those three words caught Ink off guard. Of course Error has told him that before! Plenty of times! ....right...? His chest felt a little wonky. He was... certain Error's said it many times, but today it felt more... real? More reaffirming. "I love you too, Error," Ink croaked out, wiping his eyes. Good, no more tears.

Error leaned in closer and murmured. "S-so..." he squirmed, nudging against Ink's arousal with a curious tilt up to his face. "We've got some time before the others wake up..."

Ink took a slow breath in...

...and _dove_ for a kiss.

 _This is going to happen,_ he decided, all but devouring everything Error had to offer as their smiles collided with no small amount of passion. _We're going to..._ Ink moaned.

The destroyer always had a bit of an unfair advantage when it came to interactions like this. Error had not one, but _five_ tongues and knew how to use them in ways that left Ink dazed for hours, and now was no different. There was hesitance in his actions, but determination too and Ink groaned out yet another sound of pleasure at the slick sensation of those five talented tongues coiling around his one, coaxing it back until the artist found himself dizzy and kissed breathless. 

"Ink..." Error panted, hands fisted in his shirt. "F-fuck, I want-"

"Anything," Ink interrupted, symbols shifting without his knowledge until a gradient of pink filled his sockets. Love, affection, lust... "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you, Error. I'll give you anything." His body, his soul...

In that moment, Ink would have even offered the Multiverse itself.

"Tell me what you want," he purred, grinding against his... Error. Because the destroyer may have not been his first, but what did that matter? Error was _his,_ and there was so much more in that simple claim than Ink could ever find the words to describe. "Come on, Ru. Tell me what you _need."_

 _"You,"_ Error breathed, a hitch in his voice as he pressed back against Ink's straining erection. Stars, he was already so wet. "Shit, squid, I want- _you!"_

Sensuality thickened Ink's tone as he leaned down, bracing himself over Error with a smile formed of filth. "Which parts of me? Do you want my tongue?" Groaning at the thought, he continued a slow grind into Error's slick boxers and felt himself throb at the thought of tasting his husband again. "I haven't eaten you out in-"

"D-don't fucking call it that!" Flustered, the destroyer scowled even as he squirmed at faint memories of Ink on his knees before him. "That's fucking- you know I hate the sound of that."

"Eating you out?" Grinning wolfishly, Ink leaned down further and skimmed his teeth against Error, purring, "Fucking you with my tongue? Cunninglingus?"

"Get on your fucking knees," Error hissed, pushing at him half-heartedly. 

"Mm? So you _do_ want me to shove my tongue up your pu-"

"If it'll get you to shut the fuck up, then fine!" 

Ink chuckled, well aware of the arousal bleeding flustered yellow across Error's form. A little further and that pretty blush would soon disappear beneath the destroyer's shirt. "I'm just teasing," and yet, he began trailing kisses down Error's neck. He was tempted to stop at the breast he didn't expect his husband to actually summon, but there would be time to amuse himself with those later. For now, he slid down even further until he was on his knees in front of his desk. If he never grew taller, there was no way he'd be able to reach Error like this, but his current height meant that he was perfectly levelled with his prize.

"No cute little bow...?" Smiling at the disgruntled noise from his husband, the artist coaxed Error's legs to open wider and nosed at the evidence of the other's yearning. "Error..." he murmured against the damp fabric, pressing a light kiss over the concealed jewel that left the shorter skeleton trembling. "Error..." 

Unintentionally, the destroyer's name became a soft mantra; full of love and devotion and a thousand things Ink wanted to say. Breath as hot as the lust in his gaze, he whispered it against trembling, clothed thighs and against the band of Error's boxers. When he finally slid the fabric garment down, he kept leaving scorching kisses and whispers down newly revealed flesh until his breath teased at Error's most sensitive ecto and had him crying out for Ink with a plea.

"Ink...!"

Error's slick wasn't sweet, but the need filling his voice was as sweet as honey. Suddenly starved for more of that sugary sweetness, he worm his tongue deeper into the other's pliant sex with a growl, thumbs hooked and keeping Error spread wide for him as he did so. _Stars, I haven't done this in-_ he couldn't even remember, really. Months, he knew, but nothing specific came to mind. Then again, thinking alone was quite the chore when his every sense was full of- "Error," he moaned, muffled. 

His tongue delved deeper and what might have been his name stretched into a high shriek of pleasure.

 _Oh, was that his...?_ Curious, he pressed closer until his nasal cavity nudged up against sensitive flesh. It may have been easier to simply lengthen his tongue, but- Wait, could he even do that? He... couldn't remember, but if he could-

"O-oh fu-" Squirming desperately on Ink's desk, Error thrashed about and bit down on his tongues in a poor attempt at holding back a squeal when the slick tongue within him suddenly _lengthened._ "In- _fuck!"_

Ha, he _could_ do it! Proud of himself, Ink grinned the best he could in such a position and worked on bringing Error to the brink of release. _I bet I can get him to finish with just my mouth though..._ a tempting thought, actually. If he just-

Crying out, Error locked his legs around Ink's skull and pulled the artist impossibly closer to his weeping mound. That felt- "I-Ink!" he cried, rocking his hips desperately as that unfair tongue squirmed in ways no one should have been able to manage. Toes curling with pleasure, he scrambled for something to hold onto on the desk and settled for gripping the edge of polished, paint-stained wood with a high, glitching moan. He was so fucking close it _hurt,_ but fuck he- he never wanted this to end. 

Unfortunately, Ink was insistent on grinding right into that little bundle of nerves that left him breathless, and Error found himself tipping over the edge of completion before he could even brace for orgasm. 

Maybe, he was pent up after weeks without desired stimulation. Maybe, Ink was just that fucking good.

Either way, Error found himself losing a bit of time as euphoria washed over him in intense waves of pleasure. He screamed with his release, but he didn't hear it. All he knew was a sensation so good it left him numb, and a wave of red as his body overloaded with a short, painless crash. 

When he came too, Ink was grinning with a mixture of worry and satisfaction in his gaze. "You haven't crashed like that during sex in... _years._ That good?" he teased, puffing up with pride. 

_His stupid smile is covered in my-_ Error shuddered, painfully aroused by what should have been a disgusting sight. "Fucker," he slurred, a bit embarrassed that he was so affected by a simple orgasm. Then again, stuff like this with Ink was never really simple. Even back then- _No, I... don't want to think about that shit._ He was here to be with _Ink,_ in the present. "Aintcha supposed to be painting _me,_ artist?" His voice was shaky, but held a distinct tone that had Ink's prettily pink gaze darkening into a sultry red. "So far, _you're_ the only one with some... color."

Ink's tongue flicked out, dragging across his grin with a slow, pointed motion. He wasn't unaware of the mess he wore, and he made sure that Error knew it as he took the time to savor the evidence of his ability to please his husband. "Mm, are you sure you can handle that, Ru? You look a little... exhausted." His words were both teasing, yet not. There was caution in Ink's gaze that only went away when Error lazily dropped a hand between his thighs.

"C'mon, squid," Error drawled, shuddering slightly as used his fingers to spread himself for Ink's viewing. "We still have a few hours before the sun rises. Let's..." An idea slowly crept to the forefront of his hazy mind and the destroyer paused, uncertain. _Shit, that's-_ Dumb. It was- it was really fucking stupid, but...

"Ru?"

Slowly, he relaxed. Still keeping himself spread, he began to tease himself with a spare finger and watched with uncertain anticipation as Ink swallowed thickly, wanting. 

"...Let's make something, Inky," he whispered, free hand sliding beneath his shirt to tease a nipple. "You and me, let's-"

"Make art?" Ink finished, grinning.

"Something like that." Something dangerous if they succeeded, but something- something _theirs._ "Get over here and fuck me."

Maybe Ink knew what he really meant. Maybe he didn't.

Either way, the artist flashed him an eager smile and-

_"F-fuck, Ink-! M...more...!"_

* * *

Cheeks burning with violet, Cross quietly pulled the door to Ink's art studio shut and crept back to his room now that sounds from within were a little more... muffled.

 _I just wanted a glass of water..._ but he heard noises and-

_"I... Ink...!"_

Stars, he wasn't going to get any more sleep, was he?


	22. Coffee and Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cross and Dream have coffee. With Cream.

Dream woke with the sun... unfortunately.

With a quiet groan, he fumbled for his blanket and dragged the thick material over his head in an attempt to block out the light. It worked, but other efforts to return to sleep's sweet embrace failed and the primordial was forced to admit defeat. Ugh.

"Good morning," Cross called from across the room, tucked away in his own bed but wide awake. "Um, there's coffee downstairs if you want any."

"Why isn't it in _here?"_ Dream grumbled, far from pleased to be awake so early. He didn't even have shit to do today, damnit. He was allowed to sleep in! He was- "Why're you blushing?"

In the back of his mind, heated emotions and an euphoria born from pleasure registered. Tired as he was, Dream didn't fully acknowledge just what that meant. Instead, he focused more on the emotions before him; on Cross.

"Oh, did you have dirty dream?" he questioned bluntly, getting a long feel of embarrassment and arousal before shields firmly clicked into place around Cross' emotions. Aw. "Mm, was I in it?"

"D-Dream...!"

"Heh, I was, wasn't I?" Dream yawned and stretched his arms upwards before slumping forward. _The coffee still wasn't **here**..._ not a deal breaker but a little disheartening. He'd have to get up. He did not want to get up.

"Can... can I ask you something?" Cross hesitated once Dream's gaze was back on him. "You... you were dating them before all this happened. If I remember right, you said you went on a date with Reaper?"

"Yeah... and the next day..."

Cross flinched slightly. "Right..."

Frowning a little, and trying to not think about the hot bitter liquid he craved, Dream focused on Cross. "What was your question?"

"If... if I also start dating them, would you and I...?"

A blink. Two. "That's... a pretty loaded question for so early in the morning." Privately, he thought it was cute that Cross didn't seem to realize that he already _was_ dating all of them. 

"O-oh... sorry."

Stars, now Cross looked like a kicked pup-

_Cree laughed, soft and breathy and oh so fond. "You're like a puppy." At his pout, the elder empath grinned. "You are! Every time you get excited, you do this little... foot-dance, like you're bouncing around on cute little paws in joy."_

_"I don't have paws," Posi mumbled, pouting more as he rocked on his heels._

_"You don't," Cree agreed, "but the image is stuck in my head. You'd look cute with ears and a tail. My little puppy." Cooing, the taller of the two pulled him into a hug. "My... my little Posipaws."_

_Embarrassed, he whined and hid his face in Cree's chest. Posipaws? That... that was so embarrassing! ...But he liked it._

_Posipaws: His own special little name from Cree._

Dream shook his head and muttered, "It's... fine Cross... heh, it's actually something I'm curious about now, too.... would you want to date me? Officially?" _And actually be aware of it since you're apparently... not._ Stars, that was so adorable though. Who knew someone like Cross could be so oblivious? It was endearing.

The light that shone in his eyes was immediate, though he dialed it back by sliding his gaze away to something more... neutral. The rug between them. "I think it would be nice...?"

Chuckling, Dream murmured, "I know those 'dates' we had were for business, but... At one point, I... I kind of wanted us to have a real date." Even when his heart yearned for Ink, there was still a part of Dream that cherished the meetings he had with Cross. Formal as they were meant to be, they were... fun. Perhaps not always lighthearted, but fun all the same. But now... "Heh, now we _can_ have a date!" Sleepy orbs blazed gold. _"After_ coffee. Stars, I'm never going on a date without fuel again." It was bad luck.

Cross' expression twisted. "...Please don't make me go back out there," he pleaded, voice small and expression flustered. "I... I saw too much."

Mind set on coffee, Dream slid out of his bed and stretched. No less than eight cracks and pops made themselves known by the time he dropped his arms back at his sides. "Saw too much of what...?" Realizing his tank top was out of place, he quickly fixed the material. There, now he looked like a responsible adult. _Mm, he's cute when he's flustered._

Before the other skeleton could speak, the reason for that flustered expression made itself known with a high, drawn out _"I-Ink...!"_ from the room over.

"Oh," Dream murmured, smirking. "They didn't shut the door?"

"...They didn't shut the door," Cross confirmed, mortified. "I did."

"And you didn't want to join them?" Dream teased.

Cross' embarrassed squeak was answer enough. So cute. _I want to follow the path of that blush with my tongue._

"Come on," Dream smiled at him, offering a hand. "Coffee, then a date?"

 _Oh, I'm going to enjoy this,_ he thought to himself with a smile. Watching Cross stand there with purple smeared across his face as he stuttered was... endearing. Enticing too, he had to admit as he eyed the way color crept down Cross' neck. _Yeah, I'm putting my mouth on that. One day._

 _He looks like he's going to e-eat me,_ Cross thought, shakily taking up Dream's hand in his own. That action, small as it was, thankfully gave him the distraction he needed. _His hands are... tiny._ Dainty, Cross was tempted to say.

_Snarling, Dream threw aside his broken bow and lunged. Positive (and oh the irony of that) of his ability to easily toss the smaller skeleton aside, Cross held his position and-_

_With all the force of a canonball, the small skeleton slammed into him and sent both their forms barreling backwards. At the impact, Cross instinctually clenched his eyes shut with a pained hiss._

_By the time he realized his mistake and got his eyes back on the enemy, Dream was in his face with that surprisingly bloodthirsty sneer and squeezing his neck._

His hands are warm, _Cross thought distantly._

_"Stay. The fuck. Down." What was so often a gentle tone came out as a low, rumbling growl. "I won't kill you, but I **will** hurt you if you don't stand down, Cross.”_

_He couldn't. He had orders, and those orders specifically stated that-_

_He saw the threads before Dream felt them. Just as the sensation sunk in however, the golden eyed skeleton was being yanked away and slammed into a broken, crumbling building across their makeshift battlefield._

_“C'mon, Rookie!" Error called, and Cross responded to the command instantly._

_Later, he would find surprisingly small hands etched into his neck as bruises. Even later than that, he would shake one of those very hands as an... agent. An ally._

Now, he held one of those hands as a... a romantic partner.

"C'mon, boyfriend," Dream teased, "I want that coffee."

 _How strange..._ Cross mutely trailed after Dream, staring down at their hands. _How very strange that I'm here now... that... they're giving me this chance. That I'm able to... to redeem myself._ More disturbingly, he thought back to the castle. _Would I go back...? If they were threatened? If I wanted to save them, would I go back...?_

Worst, he thought, _Yeah..._ He was still getting to learn them but he knew he would fight for them. He would sacrifice himself for them. To get even a hint of that mutual love he saw them hold for each other. To have even a taste of that for himself, he would... he figured he would do anything for it. And that was scary, in a way he wasn't sure he wanted to examine so much. _It would've been easy. Sacrifice Geno to save the rest of themselves and their kids. But they **didn't**... And I think I'm starting to understand why..._

Besides, it wasn't like he himself never went to extremes to protect the one he loved.

_"You wanted this, Crossy. Remember that."_

"Cross?"

"Hm?"

"I asked you if you wanted coffee too, but now I'm convinced you need it." Dream faced him. _When did they get to the kitchen?_ "So, what do you want in it? Half-and-half, sugar and syrup? Let me surprise you?"

"S...sure..."

Dream hummed, smirking. "Hot sauce? Got it."

"W-wait, not- not that kind of surprise. A good one!" he protested, shuddering at the thought of hot sauce of all condiments in his coffee. "...I like chocolate?"

"I know," Dream chuckled, motioning for him to sit at the little table in the kitchen while the smaller skeleton got things prepared for them. "Personally, I prefer-"

"Honey." At the other's surprised expression, Cross squirmed. _That's... weird to know, isn't it?_ Of course, his nerves now meant that he had to dig himself a bigger grave. "You... you like coffee black too, but you like it best with honey and- Reaper drinks whatever coffee you put in front of him, Geno likes his with a splash of cinnamon, Error mixed with spiced hot chocolate, and Ink- he drinks it any way, really."

The golden guardian studied Cross a little longer, smiling faintly to himself. "So... chocolate coffee, hmm?"

"Y...yeah..."

"Sounds like a plan," Dream turned away and set up the pot, gathering ingredients for a very special coffee for the both of them.

Cross fidgeted, standing just inside the kitchen. He tried thinking on something to talk about- "Dream..."

"Yeah?"

"You... are you serious about being a King...? I'm... not real sure what's going on with that, just that Reaper was telling Respite about you going for the crown?"

Somehow, the silence that followed was both soothing and tense. If anything, that strange, seemingly impossible mix only resulted in Cross being all the more unnerved. "...I don't want to be King. I don't. Leading others, ruling... it was never a desire I had, but..." Dream sighed, steeling himself with a stern frown aimed at the coffee maker. "Once, I would have sat back and allowed Negativity to do anything he pleased. Cree too, if I'm being honest. No more though. I... The First World, Reapertale that is, needs to be kept out of Negativity's clutches. And if that means fighting to become king? Then so be it."

Cross swallowed, suddenly nervous as a thought trickled into his head. "If... if you become King..." his nerves left him however and, feeling ill, he stared at his feet. _I can't ask. I... I shouldn't. It would come off the wrong way._

Unfortunately, sweet, bitter nectar had yet to grace Dream's tongue with it's presence. Still in a bit of a mood, the shorter skeleton huffed. "Are you really going to leave me in suspense? If you do, then I'll just assume you wanted to ask something dirty."

"...Would you wa- _need_ a... a second...?" Cross whispered, shuddering as the question left him. He wasn't even sure why he was asking. _Liar,_ he thought. He knew why.

Cross felt... out of place. Lost. Having a set position, a role, would... it would make him feel like he had purpose again. Order. And being second to Dream would be- better. It would be better. Not safer, but... he trusted the primordial not to lead him astray.

"...I don't need a second," Dream began slowly, watching him closely with a vivid gaze. When Cross' shoulders slumped the slightest, he shook his head and smiled. "I don't need a second," he repeated, "but... every king needs a royal guard, if you're willing."

Cross' breath hitched.

The coffee finished brewing, allowing for Dream to get working on making the fancy drinks he was planning. "As of right now, the courts are going to take a while to get themselves acquainted with the idea that Asgore isn't going to remain King. It isn't certain if I'll even be elected as such, but I'm not going down without a fight," softly, he added, "There's too much at stake for me to give up." He turned back towards Cross and set down the mug. "Here."

He was listening, but his mind had drifted off to better times. To times when he and his brother were supposed to be royal guards. No, that's not right. They were royal guards. And they were good at their jobs until... frowning, Cross curled a hand around his mug. _It was Negativity... he needed more members, for whatever reason. He recruited me, and the next thing I knew, my world was gone..._

"Cross..." Dream murmured. "I'm quite serious. About all of this. Not giving up, you being a royal guard again, the date. But if, at any point, you don't want to do this? Just say something."

 _What if Dream doesn't become King...? Negativity's won at so many other things... what's to say he'll lose this opportunity?_ "I would like to be a royal guard again," Cross murmured. "And maybe I was subconsciously doing that here... but..." he sighed, unsure how to word this.

"You don't want to just be a guard to this family. You want to be part of the family."

"Yeah..."

 _Oh, this poor man was really just too cute for his own good, wasn't he?_ "Cross?" Dream called out, softly.

"Hm?"

Perhaps it was a little too forward of him, but Dream leaned in until the gentle smile he wore pressed against Cross' cheek. "Just in case you need to hear this: You _are_ apart of this family now. Regardless of your relationship status with everyone, you're one of us, and that won't change no matter what, okay?"

"...Even if things don't work out?" Cross whispered.

Unable to resist that poor, downtrodden expression, Dream pressed another kiss to the blushing skeleton's cheek. Then another, simply because he could. "Something tells me that we're not going to have to worry about that, hon."

Cross smiled slightly, letting himself relax enough to enjoy the coffee. _I hope you're right..._


	23. Songbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reaper considers a few things, then sings.

“Cree’s sweet ass, I wish I had another cup of coffee just about now…” 

As a god, Reaper had plenty of duties. As the God of Death, those duties were rather numerous, and unfortunately quite time consuming as well. Reaping the souls of those who faced violent, unfortunate ends was, undoubtedly, one of his largest roles. Not just that, but it was also the one that the court most often turned to when it came to judging his character. Of course, this meant that their impressions of him were… pretty damn poor. Most, if not the entirety of Asgore’s court, saw him as little more than curse upon the multiverse. Sometimes, at his lowest, he thought that they just might be right 

Now however, Reaper rarely fell into those terrible moments of self-hatred and scorn, simply because he knew, without a doubt, that he was so much more than the cruel creature so many thought him to be. Yes, he was still Death, but… but that that wasn't all there was to him. His duties no longer revolved around reaping and reaping alone. 

As a husband, Reaper had duties to the wonderful men in his life, including the two who weren’t yet his through marriage, but who were still his sweethearts all the same. Beyond romantic obligations, he also had duties as an older brother when it came to Respite and his brother’s… something. In all honesty, he wasn’t really sure what Spright was to Res, but… well, he wasn’t blind. Something formed between the two, and while Reaper wasn’t exactly sure if that happened before or after his… absence, he was happy for them all the same.

In addition to his duties as a husband and father however, there was also the children to consider as well, because Reaper certainly had responsibilities when it came to them, too. Stars, the children…

The ones that really, really should be in school right now.

Of course, Reaper had no idea how to bring that up to anyone. Due to his first husband’s fears, it was already difficult enough to let Sci into their home every now and again so that the scientist could examine the twins, but… but they managed it! Somehow. And yet, Geno was still so unnerved around the other Sans. Whenever Sci was around, Geno would linger just outside of reach with his gaze set on the twin, ready to lurch forward and bring them to safety at the slightest hint of aggression. 

Given the unfortunate track record he had when it came to being tortured by strangers, no one felt like they could really blame Geno for his wariness, but… the problem still remained: If Geno was uneasy around their own doctor, then how in the world was Reaper going to bring up schooling to him? At least Geno had the ability to hover about when it came to letting others into their home, but the glitch wouldn’t be allowed that same comfort when it came to sending the oldest of the children away to sit in a classroom full of strangers, children and adults alike. Even now, Reaper could hear the fearful questions Geno would toss about. . What if there's humans there, Reaps? The bad kind, or the- the too curious type, or the ones who play too rough with monster children? What if Gothy and PJ get bullied? What if-? He shook his head, sighing.

“I really, really need that coffee…” Work alone easily left him exhausted, but all the circles he was going in while trying to figure this stuff out was leaving him in dire need of some soothing caffeine, or a nap. “Maybe… maybe we could homeschool them…? Gen is pretty good at helping the kids with their words…”

 _None of us know how to homeschool them though..._ _Aside from the basics, we don't even know what they should be learning right now...._ And honestly, Geno wasn’t in the right state of mind to stress himself out even more by attempting to teach two energetic children all on his own. Sure, he and the others would try to help, but… Well, while the others had time to spare, they were all in the same boat when it came to being off their A-game. Due to this, that meant that the only one he really could think to ask was... Sci. Maybe Life, or Knowledge too, but... of the three options, Sci was the only one that Geno could potentially warm up to fast enough to get the kid’s started on their education as soon as possible. “But that’s only if everyone agrees…”

Feeling a little defeated, the god stabbed the butt of his scythe into the ground and used the deadly weapon to hold his weight with a quiet groan. "I don't know what to do..." 

Goth was five, but Paperjam was already six. At the earliest, they should have been in preschool not too long ago, but their absence from that was excusable enough. Kindergarten though? Stars, the first grade...? Both children were bright, but how far could their education get without a guiding hand? 

The god sighed heavily, sulking. "That lunch lady just had to croak, didn't she?" Admittedly, education wasn't anywhere in his thoughts until his work brought him to an elementary school just a single world over "Maybe I should... drop by Sci's place? Just in case." Oh, but he had a thing going on with Red, right? That... Reaper shuddered, recalling the absentminded thought he had so long ago. I knew he was going to die, but... Stars, I never would have thought that Ink would be the reason why... His capture kept him from reaping the soul and this having much of a hand in Red’s end, but would that matter? He was Death himself; itself.. 

And he was married to Red's murderer.

But, Sci was still helping them out, wasn’t he? Surely he knew that Ink killed Red? Unless their relationship was new? But then, was Red still upset about what he would have undoubtedly perceived as a betrayal? If he was, would that then affect Sci’s attitude towards them? And stars, did his not reaping Red's SOUL cause problems? P Reaper knew that, in extreme cases, corruption could take place, but… did that happen to Red? “I… I have so many questions, but…” he wasn’t sure how to go about getting answers.

Sighing, Reaper recalled the first few times his work led him to Sci. Never for any nefarious reasons on the scientist's part, but out of duty on Reaper's end. In doing so, he thought back to the... the look in Sci's eyes whenever his end came. Oh, he didn't always get there in time to see the actual deed, but... but sometimes he did make it, and the look Sci wore... 

Reaper was used to seeing anger whenever a Sans met their end. Sometimes, it was desperation. Sorrow too. Most often however, those with knowledge of resets were just... resigned; accepting their ends out of an extreme exhaustion and an understanding that this was always the outcome. Sci though?

Sci always looked interested, like his death was just another piece to some puzzle that only he was aware of. It was... strange. And a little unnerving, too. 

Shuddering, he did his best to shake the memories away. "I’m… pretty sure that Sci isn’t a Star…” Not a normal one, anyway. "He's a... damnit, what's the word? An ally? Something like that." The important part was that he did help the Stars from time to time. Maybe Red's previous death changed just how far he was willing to go, but... maybe it didn't? _It has to mean something that he’s still helping us out, right?_

"I should discuss this with the others..." Once he worked up the courage to bring up a topic that he knew was going to upset Geno. “Okay, I… I can do this…” 

And yet, he didn’t move just yet. Instead, he leaned more of his weight onto his scythe and kicked his legs up behind him, as if lounging on a plush sofa. _How is Red doing...?_ He wondered, still pretty unsure about that state of the other’s SOUL. He couldn't feel it,but that just left him with even more questions. Did Respite go out and reap the SOUL for him? Probably, Still... Reaper was torn between wanting to visit to see how things were and wanting to go home to check on his family. Maybe it was a little silly to feel this way, but it felt like ages since he last saw his ever-growing family. Mostly, this was due to the amount of work he took on just to catch up. Despite being known for all the slacking he did, he managed to latch onto every call sent his way to the point that he was already back to where he should have... everything not taken place... 

“I’m so curious though…” Red wasn’t exactly his friend, but he was a friend to his loved ones, and Reaper… well, he never really got to see how things went when people he actually knew got reaped. “Did he just… shrug it off? Maybe I should sneak in, invisible…?”

But that would be breaking and entering, right? It would be invading their privacy, for sure. And what if Sci and Red were-? 

The thought of them having sex had Reaper's mind wandering back to his husbands. _Stars, it’s been so long, hasn't it...?_ he thought longingly. Geno… Geno still had a lot of healing to do. Not necessarily from his labor, but… there was the scar of his that he was trying to keep secret, and the leftover trauma from his capture. Plus, he still needed time to have the choice of summoning his form. Right now, he was still stuck with his ecto whether he wanted to be or not, and it wasn’t much of a secret that Geno was uncomfortable as he currently was. Unsurprisingly really, given what that bastard did to him...

But the others...? Ink and Error... heh, well they certainly slammed each other around this morning. It was actually kind of cute in a surprising, kinky way, though it left his SOUL aching. He missed that amount of intimacy with his husbands... 

This time, his thoughts drifted to Cross and Dream. They… probably weren’t going to be there for a while, but… Well, Reaper wasn’t ashamed to admit the attraction he held for his boyfriends. You’d have to be blind to miss just how appealing they were, and… and he definitely wasn’t blind. Sure, they’d have to work to get into that kind of intimacy, but he… really, really looked forward to the day he fell into bed with them. Preferably together.

In a perfect world, that “together” would include his husbands too. Stars, I think I’d actually die from happiness if I could get them all together… His only regret would be the fact that he only had two hands to work with and five beautiful skeletons to touch.

His gaze dropped to said hands. His bare hands, that should've held the three different rings from Geno, Ink and Error. That asshole still has our rings... he realized, sulking. Perhaps he should've been pissed. Furious. Raging. He was just tired though, and sad. Negativity took so much from them, and even though they were out, it didn’t exactly feel like they were truly free from the dastardly skeleton. _Instead of the three symbols of my devotion to my husbands, I get a fucking shackle on my ankle…_

Pitifully, he shook his ankle a bit. The little charm hanging from the shackle gave an almost cheerful jingle as it clanked against the gold. "I… I want to go home," he decided, tired of working. Of thinking too, really. All he wanted was to go home, grab the nearest husband, or boyfriend, and cuddle. If it led to anything, yay. If not? Well, who cared? He just wanted something; anything. 

"Maybe I'll stop by a bakery... pick up some sweets...?" It would be a nice treat for everyone, yeah? He even had an idea of what to get. “Oh, I can see if they sell those cute little cupcakes for the kids… I wonder if the twins are old enough to try frosting…?” 

Smiling now, he let his scythe fade and stepped forward. When he brought his shacked leg around in another step however, he stumbled.

And something went wrong.

Somehow, he came down too hard while trying to right himself, and fell. In the few seconds it took him to crash to the floor, his ankle ended up beneath his form and brought tears to his eyes when it burned with a painful twinge made worse by the- the unnatural weight of the golden shackle. “Wh… what-”

"My, it seems like I caught a little bird.... Again."

_No... no no, please-!_

Experience told him that his crying wouldn't do anything, even if there wasn't much else for him to do. Paralyzed with the uncertainty and fear within himself, he couldn't do anything but stare near Negativity's feet as the other skeleton stepped into view. He… he didn’t want to look at him… he didn’t want to see those gleaming emerald eyes and know that this was real... 

"No greeting for me, little bird? That won't go very well. But don't worry..." a hand placed itself on his back, just over where his wings often formed. "I'm not here to steal you away today. No, none of that. I was merely... curious. How have things been? I'm sure there’s much less excitement without me around.”

Actually, that wasn't the case, because Negativity may have been out of their lives, but his memory still infested their minds; and through it, their home. "...Ink... Ink and the others are expecting me back by a certain time..." he whispered, though he wasn't sure what sort of point he was making. “They- Ink will come searching if I don’t make it back. Dream too.” 

Amused, Negativity crouched down next to him. The hand on his back remained, yet the touch worsened when the primordial began massaging him there, forcing Reaper to bite back a fearful sound due to the sensitivity of the bone beneath his hand. "Did I not just inform you that I wasn't here to steal you away, my little bird?" 

Swallowing thickly, the god rasped, "Then what do you want?" _Please, just... let me go._

"I just want to chat, birdie." 

Sighing, Negativity angled his tendrils and used them as a makeshift seat, allowing him to recline without touching the filthy forest floor Reaper was blackening. "Without you all, the castle is… so very quiet. Quite dull, really. There's no chatter, and I'm being deprived of your sweet little songs."

_So... you want me to sing for you?_

Sure enough, his silent question was soon answered. "Won't you entertain an old friend, godling?" Negativity purred with Reaper's own voice.

If Negativity dug his fingers in more, he'd probably find the scar that Horror gave to the god all those months ago. The scar that sometimes aches when Reaper summons his wings.

"What... what do you want to hear...?" he croaked out, and even with the intensity of his fear, he was out and thus refused to add a pitiful little “Master” to the end of his question like Negativity so often preferred. 

Uttering a pleased little sound, the primordial thought over the question over with a thoughtful smile. This time, it was Geno's voice that crooned to Reaper as the emerald eyed skeleton spoke. "Sing me something romantic."

The pitch, tone... that little hint of embarrassment Geno spoke with whenever he said something the glitch thought was dumb... Every syllable was shaped in the exact manner his first would have spoken like, and Reaper hated it with a passion.

More than that, he hated the man smiling at him so smugly; both knowing and amused.

It was probably a poor decision to make, but Reaper closed his eyes just so that he wouldn't have to look Negativity in the eye, or see his stupid, obnoxious face. "Romantic...?" he repeated, ignoring the sound of his own thoughts raging at him to do something. _You’re death, and you are out! There’s no one here for him to threaten you with, so act! Act, you fool! Act!_

"Ah, you're right. Too boring. Instead..." the hand on his back dragged down until it pressed against his lumbar. "Sing me something sensual. I think I'd quite enjoy hearing you croon your little songs with a sultry voice."

Within another blink, Reaper was several paces away from Negativity, floating just enough off the ground that he wouldn't put weight onto his injured ankle. _Enough... that's enough..._

Negativity looked faintly amused at the sudden distance between the two, though not at all surprised. "No songs for me today, then?" he tisked. "A shame, really. I was hoping to hear something to comfort me from your absence. Ah, but you have a baby brother, don't-?" 

_Act, damnit! Act!_

But instead, like a coward, Reaper began to sing, interrupting Negativity with a wordless song in the very tone of voice he wished for. It was humiliating. Pitiful. But I'll sing a million songs before I let you anywhere near Respite. His duty as an older brother was to keep him safe, after all.

And yet, his willing little song was a win for Negativity all the same. Every sensual little note, every wavering yet smokey tune... it proved that the primordial creature still reigned over Reaper in some way. Not from respect, but through fear and threats that he wouldn’t dare chance. 

_You win,_ Reaper thought mournfully, letting his voice slowly trail off into silence when the primordial looked pleased enough. _Right now, you win._

And, for now, all he could do was hope that Negativity’s victories would end alongside his song.


	24. Sunshine and Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dream and Reaper have a chat.

"Dream...?" 

"Oh!" Smiling to himself, Dream set the papers he was looking over down and glanced up. At his side, a series of coffee-stained mugs sat, all empty. "I didn't know you were back already, Reaper. Hello," he greeted, pausing a bit when he noticed something... _off_ about Reaper's expression. His emotions too, now that he noticed them. "Are you... okay?" 

The god avoided his gaze. "...Can you... help me with something?” he began, voice a bit strained. “I, uh, I… I could use a bit of healing… please…"

"What happened?" Already on his feet, Dream stepped closer, searching Reaper all over for the problem before he froze, gaze drawn down to his ankle. He couldn't _see_ the injury, but Dream could definitely feel the pain that the taller skeleton seemed to be trying so hard to hide. “I should have noticed that sooner,” he murmured, clearing an extra chair of the clutter it held. “Here, take a seat. Put your foot on my lap if you can manage it.”

Reaper forced a smile as he set about following Dream’s directions, though the small expression of cheer wavered when the wound gave a sharp, angry stab of pain after being moved about. “S-shit…” Instinctively, he flinched when the golden eyed skeleton set his hands on his ankle, half from the fear that Dream would somehow make it hurt _more_ and half because the sight the other revealed while pushing up his robe was… ugly. Ugly in a very painful kind of way.

“Stars…” Dream breathed, taking in the severely discolored, broken bones. Even his lightest touch made Reaper cringe, and he frowned. "Reaps, hon, how did you manage this? I know you were having some trouble for a while, but you don’t often _walk_ about. What were you doing that ended up with you breaking your ankle like this?” Immediately after his words left him, Dream’s eyes sharpened. _Fear… nervousness…_ “What happened?”

“I… I just-”

“Reaper,” The primordial interrupted, his voice firm. His tone made it clear that there was very little room for nonsense at the moment. “Should I be asking _who_ hurt you instead?”

Unable to handle the sight of those knowing, scorching eyes, Reaper dropped his gaze and fell into silence. Dream wouldn’t drop the topic though, he knew, so the god sighed and forced himself to look up again. This time, however, there was a softer look in the twin pools of liquid gold observing him. There was worry, too. 

“I… I think I need more help than just…” lamely, he motioned to the wounded appendage still pillowed on Dream’s lap. When he spoke next, Reaper’s words came out as little more than a pitiful, wavering whisper. “It’s… Stars, it’s- it’s _humiliating,_ but- but I think I need… lessons. I-in self defense.” A beat passed, then Reaper was forcing out a pained laugh. “I can’t believe- I’m a god of _death_ and I need help _to stay safe.”_

He didn’t realize he was crying until golden light washed over him, putting an end to the tears dripping from void-filled eyes. 

“Reaper…” Dream crooned, and, Stars, his tone was just- it was everything Reaper needed in that moment; soft and kind and- and just so damn _understanding,_ but loving too. With just that one word, he felt- calm, and so he relaxed as that golden light swirled about, gentle and almost playful as it danced over his form and settled into the injured bone of his ankle. Within a few seconds, the break was healed but that sweet light remained as bright as Dream’s gaze. “...I can’t help you with that.”

So lost within the peaceful sensation of gilded magic, Reaper merely cooed in acknowledge of the words he didn’t quite hear. Then, their meaning slowly broke through the calm and he frowned, a little crushed. “Oh… Sorry, I just- I thought-” 

“Hush now, don’t give that sad look, love.” There was something sweet about Dream in that moment. Sweeter than usual, he meant. Then, Dream sighed as the honey-thick sweetness was gone, replaced by a gaze that was just a little harder, and an expression that was noticeably wearier. "In truth, I’d love to help you, but I can’t. At least, not at the moment.” Gently, the smaller skeleton traced a jagged line where now mended bone once bled. “Negativity is the one that hurt you today, isn’t he? Do you know why?”

"...Because you made a bid for the throne?" Reaper guessed. He wasn’t sure about the details concerning Dream’s bold actions, but… well, he could make a few connections. It wasn’t all that difficult to realize that Negativity wouldn’t take nicely to someone interfering with his plans. “So… so what? He hurt me to hurt you, and now you can’t help me because it would…” Here, he trailed off. Reaper… wasn’t quite sure how to end that statement. 

Dream sighed, and that weariness seemed to increase tenfold. "Negativity… as much as I hate to praise him, he’s intelligent, Reaper. And far too conniving for _our_ own good. I can only make assumptions as to why he wants Asgore’s throne, but his reasons don’t change the fact that Negativity has _always_ known how to manipulate the playing field to his advantage. More than that, he’s always- he’s a fucking _dick,_ ” Dream snarled before slumping, “but he knows how to turn people into pawns, either through fear tactics or simply with a bit of charisma. If I start training you in _anything_ that can be linked back to war, then he’ll twist it. He’ll tell others that I, his rival, am training Lord Death himself for some nefarious reason, and… Stars, it would be so easy for them to believe him. So,” he sighed, “I really can’t teach you, hon.” 

“Oh…” He was disappointed, yes, but Reaper knew that he couldn’t hold this against Dream. If anything, he actually agreed that it was probably best for the guardian to do his best to avoid being tarnished by Reaper’s own poor standing with the deities of his world. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little down. “That’s okay then, Dre-”

 _“But…”_ Smile mischievous, the golden eyed skeleton winked, adding, “It’d be perfectly fine for me to oversee your training if, say, a _suspicious_ individual were the one responsible for it. I _do_ still maintain my duties as a Star, so it would only make sense for me to ensure that nothing foul is taking place beneath my own roof. And if I just so happen to add in a few corrections or helpful tips? Well, that’s just me doing my duty to the people. Stars are meant to aid those within the multiverse, after all.”

Raising a brow, Reaper angled his head to the side in a curious tilt and watched Dream closely. “And… who would this suspicious individual be?” he questioned, though he had a feeling he already knew.

“Why, Cross of course. He _is_ the newest addition to our household, is he not? Ah, but it’s not just that. He was only just recently Negativity’s right hand man. No one can blame me for wishing to ensure that _my_ rival in this bid for the throne hasn’t infiltrated my home in some way in an attempt to ruin me.” 

It felt terrible to insinuate that Cross was acting as some sort of spy, but Dream knew the other skeleton wouldn’t be offended. For years now, what seemed to be distrust for the other skeleton acted as a shield for the truth; More than most that he knew, Dream _believed_ in Cross. A few foul tasting words wasn’t enough to change that.

“Cross, huh?” Reaper mused. 

“There’s quite a few benefits to him being the one to assist you.”

Reaper couldn’t exactly argue with that. Truthfully, Cross acting as his teacher for this would make a lot of sense. Out of everyone, the guard had the most recent knowledge of Negativity’s habits. Maybe he didn’t know the emerald eyed skeleton the best, but he knew more than most did, and that… that could definitely be put to use. From what he could recall from the battle they were forced to have as well as all the little training sessions they had, Cross could hold his own in a fight, too. _I… I wonder how different it’ll be; learning willingly instead of being forced to handle a weapon I never intended to use._

Feeling relieved, Reaper offered his smallest boyfriend a grin. “Thanks, Sunstar,” he said warmly. And then, his own damn worries had to ruin the good feelings he was trying so hard to hang onto. “We- we should… probably tell the others what happened, shouldn’t we?” 

A small, tired nod was the sole response Dream gave before he carefully pushed Reaper’s foot off his lap, standing. 

“I’m going to need more coffee for this.” Instead of grabbing any of the mugs from his unintentional collection, the smaller skeleton simply reached for the now cool pot of coffee sitting on the counter. “Stars, Ink is going to be impossible to deal with.” 

"...Hey, um, could you… maybe help me with one more thing before we bring it up to him...?" Reaper asked, trying to look especially downtrodden and in need of a helping hand. Unfortunately, the look came to him easily. "Uh, only if you're not too busy. I know that I interrupted your work."

 _Busy, hm?_ Golden eyelights traced a random path over the kitchen table. It wasn't exactly the best space for privacy or confidential documents, but he gave up the desk within his room so that Cross could have a bed to sleep on, so this set up would have to do. _Maybe I should set up shop in the attic... or the basement...?_ Anywhere that he could keep that old, scribbled-filled book hidden would be fine. 

"Dream?" 

"...No, I'm not busy, Reaps. At least," he smiled, knowing the expression was kind and beautiful and everything he needed to distract from the magic burned beneath his eyes, "I'm not too busy for _you._ " 

"Charmer," the god grinned, a bit more enthusiasm in his expression as he offered the guardian primordial an arm. When Dream took it, his smile only grew as he stepped closer. "I just- I know you healed my ankle, but I could use some... reassurance as I go upstairs?" 

"Reaps, I can tell you're lying to me." Still, he let the god lead him upstairs. When they got to the very top step however, Reaper swept him up and began drifting down the hall. "Reaper-" 

"Shhh, Gen should be napping with the kids around this time, right? I don't want to wake any of them.”

Sure enough, the open door of their bedroom showcased a brief glimpse of Geno sprawled across the bed; Goth curled up against his back and Paperjam in his arms. Unsurprisingly, the cribs containing the resting twins were pulled close to the bed, too. 

_Cute,_ both thought, smiling softly at the sight.

“Mind if we use your room?” Reaper whispered, already moving further down the hall. Geno could be such a light sleeper nowadays, so it was best to keep things quiet. The glitch needed all the rest he could get. “I bet your bed is comfortable.” 

"Very well,” Dream murmured, deciding to be kind- 

_"Kind, sweet Posi... always so eager to please others, yet never daring to be selfish and fight for his own desires..."_

_"Brother, please... I-"_

_“Should have been firmer. If you had, then perhaps Cree would be here holding your hand instead of me?"_

-he kept himself from making a lewd comment about Reaper’s curiosity until the god gently set him down on his feet. Before Dream could so much as blink hover, he found himself being dragged down onto his bed by a cuddle fiend of a skeleton. 

"Ah, you could have just said that you wanted to relax first, hon.” he chuckled, settling into the warm hold of his dark eyed boyfriend. “I wouldn’t have said no.”

"The cuddles are just a bonus. I was… I want to know what’s going on, Dream. Uh, please?”

For the first time in decades, Dream’s innocent confusion was genuine. "What's going on with _what_ exactly?" He questioned, knowing that there were far too many things that Reaper could have been referencing. “You’re… going to need to be a lot more specific, love.”

"Tell me what’s going on with you? I… Ink and I talked. A bit. It- it can still be hard to look at him and see the person I know now, but… talking helped. A lot. But you and I haven’t really gotten to do that, and I- I’m curious too. About things. Like… why are you putting your name down for the throne exactly? It’s… not all that weird, I guess? I just- I don’t really know if this is a Dream thing or a Positivity thing, but… but it seems a bit too dangerous to just be some sort of whim, especially if Lord Negativity is going to be… p-popping around more now…” 

_Lord, huh...?_ It sounded like a slip. Something Reaper didn't exactly mean to say, though something he didn't realize he said either. 

"I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to worry all that much about Negativity for the moment, hon. I understand if today shook you up, but… we don’t want to give him the satisfaction of causing you anymore strife than he already has.” Letting his head rest on Reaper’s chest, Dream thought over the rest of Reaper’s concerns. “...I had a bit more time to remember the rest of me than Ink’s been allowed, so far." 

When the god's arms came around him and held him closer, Dream felt a warmth bloom in his own chest. _How long had it been since he cuddled with someone...?_

“The pieces he lost… they’re larger than mine, I think. And Cree himself? He was… he was so much _more_ than I was. Am. Its-” he chuckled a bit. “It’s confusing, and remembering what we lost…? It wasn’t easy, though I’m sure I had it far easier than Ink.”

Tickles of memories reached out in his mind, though it was Reaper's voice that brought him back. "Was it as disorienting?" 

"It still is, sometimes..." 

Reaper thought back to the few times he witnessed Dream start or continue a conversation that wasn't actually happening. Most recently, it seemed to happen during the meals they all shared together, or when specific things like certain sweets were mentioned. _I… I wonder if Gen would teach me how to bake…? Maybe we could make Dream those sweet buns he likes so much? It may make him happy._

"And... Ink was in them? In your memories, I mean," he clarified awkwardly, though he doubted Dream wouldn't have been able to piece that together himself. "...Was _I_ in any?" Probably not, if Reaper were to be honest with himself. Maybe he was someone now, but as a godling? He was... small. Insignificant beyond the hatred he inspired in others. "Nevermi-" 

"Actually, you were," Dream interrupted with a small smile. "I won't lie and say those memories are particularly clear, but... Yes, I remember..." his voice grew faint, "...You were so... frazzled. Nervous. The day you arrived at your first council meeting, you were so terrified that I swore I could actually taste the sour flavor of your fear. Oh, but who could blame you? You… you were just a little, itty-bitty godling... Why, you couldn't even see over the table unless you-" 

"I regret asking." Only half kidding, Reaper groaned dramatically and tucked his face into Dream's neck. His back would probably ache a bit if he kept his currently balled position, but... who cared? The guardian smelled just like sunshine, though that wasn't a scent he knew he could name until now. "Stars, how embarrassing." 

"Embarrassing?" 

"I still don't remember you two clearly," Reaper admitted, "but you were… _are_ amazing. I mean, of course you were! Are. You- you're _Lord Positivity,_ and Ink is- well, we know who he is. Everyone does! ...Did?" Feeling Dream's cringe a bit, Reaper smiled faintly. "Sorry, it... probably burns a bit to realize that the world thinks you're a fairytale." 

"It did when my memories first rushed me, but not anymore." A lie. Thankfully, Reaper wouldn't know that. "In some ways, being unknown has given me freedom. And a lot of headaches." He was still Posi, but changed. That would make things more difficult in the long run. "Perhaps, one day, my name will be out there again? My true name, I mean." 

"You'd rather be known as Positivity instead of Dream?" 

"Want? There’s no room for my desires here, Reaper. What I _need_ is to be known as someone worthy of being king. Lord Positivity has everything he needs to be deserving of that worthiness. Dream on the other hand…? To the council, he’s little more than a fool trying to fill the role Positivity left behind, and poorly at that. Stars, all the mistakes I made when I was first starting out as a Star..." 

“...So,” stretching the word out to fill the silence that settled over them, Reaper waited until golden eyes glanced up at him before asking, unsurely, “Does that mean that you want _us_ to start calling you Positivity?”

The question took Dream by surprise. Truthfully, the thought was actually nice. It… it wouldn’t feel _bad_ to be called by the name he was given so long ago. He was Dream, but he was also Posi too and… and he didn’t really want to give that up… any of it, really. “Positivity is… it’s worth a lot more as a name…”

“But that doesn’t mean that it would change _your_ worth, Sunstar. Positivity, Dream… no matter what name you go by, you’re worth… _so much._ As a boyfriend, a father… even as a King… you’re worthy no matter what you call yourself, because you’re _you._ Your actions say so much more than a name ever could.”

At that, Dream pressed a smile into Reaper's neck. "My actions, hm? Unfortunately, even those are split by my name... at least, that's how Negativity will twist it. I... I miss being Posi, but I _do_ know that he and I are one in the same. And yet, it would be so easily for others to be convinced otherwise, and to ignore all that I've done as Dream simply because _that_ name is not associated with the glory of godliness." 

"I don't know, Sunstar... Even if it isn't a case, I can think of a few worlds that hear your name and think of my kind. To them, you _are_ a god. It doesn't matter that you're _more,_ and it wouldn't matter if you were _less,_ either. Dream... he comes to the aid of others, and he does it with sunshine in his eyes and warmth in his smile. It's enough to get others to believe in him- um, you."

"Belief has never ruled over your kind, Reaps, or my own." 

Reaper shifted so that he could peer down into those lovely starlight eyes. "Then... why are you so worried over what the council _believes_ about you? If normal mortals can't influence who you are based on their opinions, then why should they?" 

"It's different," Dream sighed. 

To that, the god scoffed. "Sunstar, it's only different because you're letting it be. You know who you are better than anyone else, and you know your own deeds as well. If anyone tries to belittle you or your actions simply because of a name, then just... prove them wrong."

Frowning a little, Dream gazed back into Reaper's voids-for-eyes. "Prove them wrong...?" 

"Actions speak louder than words, right? Even the pretty words that fall from Lord Negativity's mouth are spoiled by his devious actions. For me, it doesn't seem to matter if I speak nice and eloquently and do my job..." Reaper shook his head. "But that's not what we're talking about. You? You can learn to say nice and pretty things to influence others to respect you or follow you, but you have your honest actions to back you up. You're _always_ there for people, giving them chances again and again and again, even after they've proven to be unworthy of your help." He smiled softly. "I know he would call it foolish and naive, but I think it's admirable. And understandable... sometimes, people don't believe you're really there for them until you've over-proven yourself, and honestly? You've over-proven yourself as Dream." 

"And now I need to do the same as Positivity." 

"...ZDo you?" Reaper tilted his head slightly. "How does the… the Primordial of Positive Dreams sound instead?" It wasn’t exactly right, but it fit both of Dream’s names in nicely. “Dream, the Primordial of Positivity…?” 

Cracking a smile, the golden one murmured, “Sounds too good to be true." 

_"Almost_ too good to be true, since the truth—which is you—will be standing right before them!"

 _Oh Reaper..._ Sliding a hand between them, Dream reached up until his palm cushioned the god's cheek. "You're quite inspirational, you know?" _But you're more than that, too. You're kind, and oh so very sweet..._

And yet, all of Reaper's beautiful good was overshadowed by the presumed cruelty of his actions. It didn't matter to others that his smiles were as genuine as the kindness in his heart. No, all they cared for was the blood and dust they believed stained his hands due to his work. _Of course everyone blames the creation, not the creator..._

Tch, the fools. All of them. It was their own hubris that brought both Death and death into existence, but they still punished Reaper for their own deeds. How foolish. How cruel. How... 

_Funny,_ Dream mused, smiling to himself when the god trilled and closed his eyes to enjoy his touch. _Cree was so very angry back then, but... look at him now. Look at the both of us now: We love the very same being Cree once despised out of principle simply because he stood as an offense to all we were..._

"You know... Cree and I would do anything for you, right?" He murmured, running a thumb over Reaper's grin with a distant gaze. "Cree especially, but... that's because he tends to go to extremes, not because our feelings are different. You... you're quite wonderful, Reaper." 

He felt the way warmth bled into the god's cheeks alongside a lovely cyan. 

"Says the literal _Dream_ man all wrapped up in my arms." 

"I was crafted with perfection in mind. You, however? You were created out of pride, and anger..." It was easy to roll Reaper onto his back. Faced with affection, the god was delightfully pliant. _It's too soon for sex,_ Dream told himself, but that didn't stop him from reclining on Reaper so that he could enjoy his warmth more fully. "In many ways, you were meant to be a living 'fuck you' to Cree, but... everything you were meant to be, you defy. You're kind where you should have been cruel. You're... you're just lovely."

Reaper wasn't sure he could handle such a praise, so he settled for a distraction, "Have you... I'm assuming you've enough powers to create a being, if you wanted to, so have you ever… you know?"

Dream paused, the question taking him by surprise. "Have… have _I_ ever created anything?” Immediately, a denial rushed forward just to get stuck at the very tip of his tongue. His instinct was to say no, but...

For a moment, just a single moment, Dream _hesitated._

* * *

Emerald eyes glimmered in the darkness. “Impressive…” Negativity murmured, drinking in the sight of the lovely ecto. “I was starting to lose faith in you, and yet…” the magic-made flesh was warm beneath his palm, and flat. Time would change that, he knew. “You finally provided me with results. Well, I assume so, at least. I’m rather displeased with _this_ being your only evidence.”

“It’ll take a few weeks before what you really want to see shows. Until then, all I can offer is my form and the results from the test.”

Negativity sighed. “Very well. For now, this will be enough. Ah-ah, little mare. Don’t go reaching for your clothing just yet. We’re not done here.”

“...My lord?”

“Your success ensures the continuation of your servitude, yet it also means that you now carry that of which is _mine._ I need to ensure that, should you run, anyone willing to house you will know whose property you hold.” He felt the shift when he smiled; perfect, white teeth sharpening alongside the tendrils at his back. “So stay still, little mare. Your master needs to leave his mark.”

“...Of course, my king. I… I am honored to—”

Oh how he loved the taste of pain.


	25. Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get some more of that sweet Reaper-Dream interaction.

The moment passed, and Dream shuddered.

“Oh, I... Reaps, I wouldn’t even if I could. Ink is many things, and possessive is most certainly one. Out of all the creatures he ever crafted, only Life has been allowed the gift to create, and even then it's under different circumstances and differs from Cree's own abilities. I don’t dare insult him by presuming to  _ be  _ him." 

The god blinked, confused. "But...  _ I _ wasn't created by Tori,  _ or _ Ink." 

"...No, you weren't.” Dream didn’t look pleased by that. “Before you ask,  _ no; _ There weren't any others blessed with the abilities Cree bestowed upon Lady Life. Like I said, Cree was— _ is— _ quite possessive. Stingy, some might even say. The power of creation… it wasn’t something he wanted to let go of, but he… well, even Ink likes to slack off. There was so much to be done, so many worlds to fill, and Ink… Cree needed a break.”

_ “...I think I’m tired, Posi,” Cree whispered, so quietly that Positivity doubted he would have caught the words had they not been spoken against his neck. “All these responsibilities, all this… this pomp and circumstance, and mindless respect… I’m tired of it. I need a break.” _

_ He wasn’t exactly sure where all this was coming from, but Posi found himself unsurprised. Cree hid it well, but he knew his bonded. Cree’s smiles were strained these days, and his usual excitement was… dimmed. “Well, why not take a break then, love?” _

_ “It- I want to, but it’s not-” _

_ “Simple?” _

_ Cree sighed, “Yeah…” With a petulant whine, the elder primordial dropped his weight onto Posi and sulked. “I can’t just disappear for however long I want. Well, I can if I want to, but you know how the gods get if we leave them alone for too long. They’re like- like children! You turn your attention somewhere else for just a second and suddenly there’s fire everywhere. The only real difference is that kids are cute.” _

_ “I suppose they are,” Posi agreed, thinking about the youngest of the godlings. “Asgore does well though, don’t you think? He’s so very eager to prove himself to you, so he tries to corral the gods in your absence. Toriel helps quite a bit, too. Why not put them in charge for a bit?” _

_ “And show blatant favoritism? Posipaws, there was already an upset when I selected Life as my protégé. Putting them in charge, even if temporarily, would cause an uproar.” _

_ “But if we just explain-” _

_ “None of them listen to reason!” Sighing heavily, Cree braced his arms on either side of Posi’s head and pushed himself up a bit, just enough so that weary, colorful sockets could meet the younger primordial’s gaze. “Toriel was always meant to act as a conductor for my abilities, but so many of the gods are already throwing fits over the fact that she’s due to receive a portion of my gifts soon. If I place her in a position of power now, they’ll… they’ll revolt!” _

_ “But they respect her.” _

_ “Because they fear upsetting me.” _

“Being able to finally take that break took so much effort though.” Some memories were clearer than others, but he recalled the outrage when they announced that Asgore and Toriel would be assigned as the rulers of The First World. It wasn’t just from the other gods however, but from Negativity as well. “Unfortunately, things still didn’t go smoothly. Asgore… he’s better now, somewhat, but he was… well, easily influenced. He cares for his people, therefore he is weak against their ire… and their manipulation.”

“...He… helped make me…” Reaper recalled, and there was a question in his gaze when he met Dream’s distant stare. 

The golden eyed skeleton smiled sadly. “He did, and it was quite foolish of him to do so. The form of creation used to… well,  _ create  _ you was… bastardized, I guess you could say. Unnatural, and… and simply  _ wrong.”  _

“...You mean…  _ I  _ was wrong…” 

Not wanting to hurt the god with his words than he was already doing so, Dream leaned in and pressed the lightest kiss to the corner of Reaper’s smile. It was a small, hesitant thing, but it left warmth in both their cheeks. 

“Cree loves you, Reaper, and I myself adore you quite a bit. Back then, however… you have to understand that Cree never intended to unleash something quite like you onto the multiverse. He loved each and every one of his creations, and he never wanted to see them come to an end.”

“So, he hated me?” Reaper guessed, sockets sad yet understanding. 

Dream’s voice grew firm with a confident, “No!”

“But-”

“Ink wasn’t happy about your existence, but it wasn’t  _ you  _ he hated. It was-” Dream sighed and dropped his chin back onto Reaper’s chest, thinking. He didn’t want to make this worse. “Your creation was… to put it simply, it was a giant ‘Fuck you’ to Cree, and that… that hurt him, I think. He was pissed, yes, but more than that…”

_ “How could they betray me like that?!” Cree snarled, slashing across a canvas with a violent stroke of his brush that left vivid red paint in its wake. “I… I brought them into existence, I taught them… I gave them a place in my world and they- they turned around and-” _

_ “Shat on everything you are,” Negativity filled in, and when Posi turned his way he found that his brother’s eyes were cold. “We can’t let this go, Cree. The- the insolence is utterly unforgivable! And that…  _ **_thing._ ** _ We ought to destroy it.” _

_ “The godling?” Black dripped from Cree’s brush this time. “His… creation… is no fault of his own, Neggy. I won’t unravel him simply because the other’s brought him into existence.” _

_ “He’s a threat.” _

_ “He’s a  _ child,  _ brother,” Posi scolded, frowning at the emerald eyed skeleton. _

_ Negativity scowled. “A child who turned a god to dust with a single touch; who blackens the earth with his steps and who spits upon all that Cree is! He has to be taken care of.” _

_ When Cree dropped his brush and finally turned and faced them, his eyes were wet. “We leave the godling alone. He can be their punishment.” _

“...He was hurt, and confused.” With a small smile, Dream closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Reaper’s SOUL. “That was in the past though, darling. Please, never doubt the fact that Cree loves you, because he does, and I didn’t tell this story to make you think otherwise. I just… I want you to understand just why I would never dare attempt a creation of my own, even if I could.”

“Because it’d hurt Ink?”

Dream nodded. “No one likes dealing blows to those they love, Reaper.”

Reaper took a moment just to…  _ think.  _ He did his best as a husband, but he was far from a perfect man and, sometimes, he just said or did the wrong thing at the wrong time. There were occasions where he misread Geno’s mood that resulted in tears, and an ache in his chest. He hated hurting Geno, even if on accident. “Yeah… yeah, I get that.”

“To be honest,” Dream continued, “I used to go out of my way just to ensure I never upset Cree. I… stars, I hated feeling his emotions dull, even if he often keep it hidden from me.”

“Did… did you ever mess up?” Reaper questioned, unsure if he would offend Dream with his curiosity. “You two were together for a long time, right? It’s kinda natural for couples to fight every now and then, isn’t it?”

Here, things got… difficult. Sifting through centuries upon centuries of memories wasn’t exactly, so… “It’s… hard to say,” Dream admitted. “Cree… he did his best to provide whatever I could have possibly wanted, and in turn I… well, I had quite a bit of blind faith in him. Even if something upset me, I usually reasoned it away. Truthfully, I… no, we were both far too accommodating for the other. No… no wait, that’s not exactly right. It’s just- we-” he sighed, “I loved Cree, and he loved me… but we didn’t always love each other  _ right.  _ We hid a lot of our darker moods from one another simply to ensure neither of us ended up hurt.”

“Oh…” That… didn’t seem the healthiest way to go about a relationship, but-

“It wasn’t healthy.” And though he hated to admit it… “I think… Can you keep a secret, Reaper?”

“U-uh…” Slowly, Reaper nodded.

Voice lowering, Dream glanced about before whispering, “Sometimes, I find myself thinking that… that Cree and I may not have survived together as we were. I think… no, I  _ know  _ that we’re better suited for one another now than we were all those years ago, though that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him back then. It just- I… we changed, but we changed for the better, so now we can  _ be  _ better. Together.”

“But you don’t want Ink to know?”

“Not until I’m sure his own memories have settled. He and I… we still have so much to discuss, but I don’t want to push either of us to tackle such an extensive topic until I’m sure we both have the pieces.” Trying for a joke, Dream grinned, “Like I said… I wouldn’t dare try my hand at creation, so I don’t want to  _ create  _ any trouble for us.” Immediately, he cringed.  _ That was terrible… Stars, I don’t think it even makes much sense. _

Thankfully, Reaper was a sweetheart and offered him a pity chuckled. “I dunno, Sunstar… there’s other forms of creation that Ink would probably be okay with, right? I mean…” his grin grew sly, teasing. “Gen and I  _ created  _ Goth.”

Sunshine rushed to Dream’s face. “A-are you-  _ did you just imply that I ought to make a child with Ink?!” _

“...Kinda?” Chuckling at the primordial’s flustered expression, Reaper did an odd motion that looked as though he was trying to suggestively wiggle the eyebrows he didn’t have. “It’d be fun.”

“Reaper!”

“And~” the god continued, talking as if he didn’t hear Dream. “I’m pretty sure you two would make unfairly adorably babies. I mean, Gothy, Jam, and the twins are adorable, but I just see little skeleton running around with Ink’s stained cheeks and your eyes-”

The description left Dream frowning. “No… no, he- it’s Ink’s looks that he has. His face, his smile…” Chest aching, the golden eyed skeleton closed his eyes and… yes, that’s right. “He has his eyes too. Not all the colors, but… but the shapes…”

“Oh, you think your kid would have symbols like Mari?” Reaper questioned, but there was a strange quality to his voice. If Dream opened his eyes, he would have seen the confusion the god wore, and the hesitance.  _ Has he thought about this before?  _ There wasn’t much hesitation when Dream spoke, as if he already knew just what child he wanted to have with Ink. “Think they’d shift with their mood?”

“No, they- he doesn’t have… they’re stars.  _ Always  _ stars. I just- I should...” Feeling strange, Dream reopened his sockets and began patting his pockets. “I usually have- oh, but I’m not in my robes…”

“Dream?”

“I’m not all that good at describing these things…” Dream murmured, voice… sweeter than just a few moments ago. Soft and musical with a faint bell-like quality, like chimes tinkling in a soft summer breeze. “I have a drawing of him, but it’s not very good. Cree’s the artist, not me.”

“Dream?” Reaper tried again.

“Still, I… I’ve been trying, you know? O-oh! It should be- my desk! In the top drawer!” Quickly, Dream crawled off Reaper and the bed entirely. “I always- oh, but where-” Skull aching, the golden eyed skeleton paused. “I… something’s not right.”

_ Third time’s the charm…  _ “Dream?”

Gilded eyelights snapped in Reaper’s direction. “Something isn’t right.” He felt- wrong—out of place, in a way. It… it felt like his mind was a thousand years away despite the fact that his body was here, in the present. “I… my apologies, Reaper. I must have seemed so strange just now.”

“Another memory?” When Dream took the hand he offered, Reaper gently tugged him back down onto the bed so that he could hold the smaller skeleton close. Something told him that Dream didn’t realize he was shaking. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“...It didn’t feel like a memory.” It  _ still  _ didn’t feel like one, because he still felt split; stuck. “I… gods, I feel like I’m missing something.”

“You  _ did  _ get up to look for something. A drawing, I think you said. Of… of Ink? You mentioned a ‘him,’ so…”

It made sense, and yet… “No. It- whatever drawing I was looking for, it wasn’t of Ink.” Dream was sure of that. But if not him, then who- “Oh, of course.” Suddenly feeling foolish, he laughed. “I was looking for my drawing of Palette!”

“...Who?” Negativity whispered, causing Posi to turn to face him. His voice was off-

Dark voids met sun-filled sockets.

That wasn’t Neggy.

But then-

Who-

“Dream, who is Palette?” Reaper—Stars, how could he forget  _ Reaper— _ asked. And Posi- Dream-

He was confused, because the answer was so… obvious? Clear.

“He’s my everything, silly.” Posi giggled “He… he’s my…”

“Your…?” Reaper pushed, hesitant.

Glimmering tears fell from golden eyes, like a rainfall of stars. “Palette is my son.”


	26. Forgotten Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dream realizes that he made an oops.

For a single, fleeting moment, all was well in the world. Not perfect of course, but things were… good. Happy enough.

Then, Posi blinked. His tears fell faster, and his smile withered away as complete and utter horror filled every crevice of his expression. “...Pa… Palette…” he whispered, and just like that like that... 

Everything

Clicked

Into

Place.

And with a mournful wail, Dream was sent spiraling into the past.

_ "C-Cree—EEEEEEE!" Posi squealed, laughing wildly as he tried to scroll out of the other primordial's hold.  _

_ Grinning widely, Cree held Positivity tighter and continued his assault on the golden eyed skeleton's neck. "Yeah, Posipaws? Is something wrong?" he questioned innocently, flicking his tongue over a set of teeth marks flushed a lovely shade of gold. As he did so, the next round of laughter grew breathy and Posi squirmed with an entirely different form of desperation. "Stars, I love your pink..." _

_ "W-we have- oh my!" Cheeks flushed with laughter grew warmer with arousal. "C-Cree, we already... you know!" _

_ "Mmm... let's do it again!" _

_ "Cree!" _

_ "That's not a no~" Still grinning, the elder of the two primordials fell onto his side, dragging Posi along as he did so. He wasn't all that sure how Cree managed it but, somehow, Positivity found himself blinking up at the taller skeleton. "Posi..." Cree whispered, wild grin softening around the edges into something sweeter. "I... I've been thinking. You and I... we should- If you're willing, I'd like us to... m-make something. Together." _

_ Gilded sockets brightened with an excited light. "Oh! Like a new Haven?" _

_ "...N-not... not quite..." Clearing his throat, Cree opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Then, he opened it again just to make a face as his smile sealed shut. This process repeated a few more times until, frustrated, he forced the words out in a single go. "Posi, I want to have a ba-" _

_ "Have you two truly spent the day fooling around?" _

_ "Oh!" Posi blushed and grinned sheepishly at Negativity. "We weren't fooling around..."  _

_ Cree tilted to his side, arms still snuggling Positivity to him, as his own gaze landed on the disproving expression of the middle Primordial. "You can always join us~"  _

_ "I'll pass," Negativity frowned at them. It didn't seem like he had anything else to say. At least, not yet. And yet, he didn't move away from the door.  _

_ Slowly, their smiles fell. "Neg?" Cree spoke up as he sat up slightly. Positivity gripped the blanket, holding it to himself to keep their warmth with him.  _

_ The middle Primordial's brows creased together for a moment before smoothing out. "Cree..." he drawled slowly. "I've been... giving quite a bit of thought to what we were discussing earlier."  _

_ Surprise and delight entered the eldest's eyes. "And?" he asked eagerly. Positivity hesitantly fell quiet, watching them.  _ What are they talking about?  _ he wondered. He knew that Negativity and Creativity had a bit of a different relationship. Neggy was older by days, maybe, but sometimes... he pushed himself to smile more.  _ There's nothing wrong! 

_ "I can't share you."  _

_ Creativity stopped breathing for a moment. _

_ Confused, Posi glanced between the two with an uncertain smile.  _ Share...? _ "Neggy? Cree? What's going on-" _

_ "Nothing," Negativity interrupted. His expression was cold. "I merely stopped by to share my thoughts on something Cree and I spoke of, and I've done just that. Now, I'll take my leave." _

_ The bedding went flying as Cree scrambled out of bed, chasing after Negativity with a cry of, "Neggy! Wait!" _

_ When the blankets settled, Posi was left feeling cold from the cool air that seeped in, and Cree's absence. _

_ "He... he left..." Posi sobbed, face buried in his hands. "He- what did I do, Neggy? Why did- why did he leave me?" _

_ "He left me too, Pos," Negativity murmured, watching the youngest's heart break more.  _

_ Positivity was too deep into his own upset to notice the pleasure dancing about Negativity's tongue and soul.  _

_ "Have..." he hiccupped, raising his teary gaze to Neggy's. "H-have you seen him...? Talked t-to him...?"  _

_ "...No. Apologies, Posi, but no. None of the other gods or goddesses have seen nor heard from him either. I've checked."  _

_ "Wh-why...?" he wailed, voice cracking. "I... I didn't do anything...?! Anything wrong...??"  _

_ "Maybe that was the problem?" Negativity whispered. "You never tested him. Maybe..." almost apologetically, he murmured, "Maybe you bored him...?" _

_ The words tore a wail out of him alongside his heart. "I... I..." he wanted to deny it, but the more he thought about his brother's words, the more likely they seemed. He rarely challenged Cree, and whenever the other asked what he wanted, Posi could never come up with anything exciting aside from trips to their special place, or sex; things that let them be alone, close, and intimate. "I... he a-always seemed so happy... W-why didn't he tell me he was growing tired of me? I- I would have changed for him, brother!" _

_ "Sometimes, people expect more than we're capable of," Negativity soothed, but his gentle words only worsened the pain, leaving him to cry harder. _

_ "I could c-change!" _

_ "Oh Posi," his brother crooned, "then why didn't you?" _

I thought I was perfect for him...  _ he sobbed to himself. Clearly... clearly that wasn't the case. He wasn't here, was he? He... he probably wouldn't ever show again... And somehow that ripped at him even more. Cree held fantastic ways of hiding from everyone, if he so wanted. If he so wished. Infinite possibilities were at his fingertips and at the bristles of his brushes.  _

_ Positivity curled away from Negativity and muffled his sobs into his pillow. "Why does this hurt so much....?" he whimpered pathetically, wondering briefly what it would be like to disappear, too.  _

_ "It'll hurt for a long long time, Posi," Negativity reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Oh... but I could ease that for you."  _

_ Posi shook his head, "N-no... no... I just..." he sniffed and hid more, "I just wanna be left a-alone for a bit..."  _

_ "Alone, huh? Suit yourself." his weight left the bed and before Posi could whip his head around to beg him to stay, he was gone.  _

_ The golden Primordial would never presume to cuss anything out, and yet... there was something about time that was quite unpleasant. It had been... years? I think?  _

_ But it seemed to still when he gazed at those too-familiar eyes, and that grin that whispered his name like a prayer. _

Get out, _ he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come no matter how hard he tried.  _ Get out, go away. I'm finally, finally starting to lose the ache within my chest, and I-

_ "Posi..." Cree whispered, and there was- there was just so much love within him that Posi already knew he wouldn't be able to shut the door. He was doomed to fall to Cree's charm the moment their gazes met. "My... my sweet Posipaws... Stars, it's been so long, but..." Shakily, Cree laughed. Through his own tears, Posi saw that he was crying. "You're still so beautiful." _

_ "You don't mean that," he whispered, though he knew it wasn't true. The other primordial's shields weren't down completely, but... but Cree wasn't hiding everything. Posi could feel all the warmth directed his way. "You- you don't mean it." _

_ Cree's next laugh left him brokenly. "I do, Posi. I do mean it. You-" he chuckled wetly, and even that strained little sound was just so warm. "Gods, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I... I..." _

_ Slowly, Cree reached out. _

_ "I want to touch you..." he breathed, and though his palm was rougher than Posi remembered, his touch was still so gentle as the other skeleton cradled his cheek. "I... Stars, Posi, I... I missed you..." _

_ He didn't fight it when he was coaxed closer. "Cr... Cree..." _

_ "Posi..." Every color within Cree's gaze swiftly turned pink. "You must be so upset with me, but I- I have to say it." _

_ "Please don't," Posi begged. If Cree did, then... then... _

_ "I love you, my heart. My Posipaws." _

_...he would never be able to let go of his own love for him. _

He'll tell me, _ he found himself thinking. Every kiss, every touch, every questioning hesitation, Posi found himself certain Cree would explain himself. Even as they came together in a brilliant orgasmic elation, and he cuddled closer to his first love, Posi lied to himself over and over again.  _ He'll tell me why he left. Why he's back. Just... _ "Why...?" he whispered against the eldest's chest.  _

_ Except, it wasn't his chest... it was the pillow. Cree's scent was fading from it already, and when Posi found enough energy to look down, his stomach was swelled with the child the eldest Primordial wouldn't know of. Ever. Faint memories of eating and nausea and raw emotions raked through him but he couldn't bring himself to move.  _ Gods, I'm so tired... _ his sockets prickled with tears that wouldn't fall anymore.  _

_ Vaguely, he remembered Negativity visiting him, complaining of how they haven't seen each other, but he couldn't recall when they last hung out.  _

_ And when the pain hit, and his son decided that now was the time, it wasn't his father's name Posi cried out for help. _

_ Because, these days, only Neggy ever came to his aid. _

_ "It hurts!" He sobbed, gripping tightly to the hand that he thought he could trust. "It h-hurts-!" Even once the child was free, screaming his blessed little head off, Positivity couldn't bring himself to let go of that hand. Weakly, he admitted, "I'm s-so scared..." _

_ A single tendril wrapped slowly around the messy newborn, clutching him close. Through blurry, tearfilled sockers, Posi caught sight of a strange expression on his brother’s face. _

_ "Ah, it’s a boy," Negativity murmured, though his hold kept the wailing infant angled away. Posi couldn’t see his baby. He… _

_ He wanted to see him... _

_ “N… Neggy, can I-” _

_ “Remind me yet again about the promises you wish me to keep? Don’t worry, brother, I know: Don't tell Cree.” Negativity smiled. “Rest assured, I won't tell him about your darling little..." _

_ “Palette,” he supplied, speaking the name he kept close to his heart for months now. “He… his name is Palette…” _

_ "Mama, when am I gonna meet my daddy?" almost instantly, the young child took a stance and pouted up at him. "No fair! You're blue again! Be yellow! Yellow! Or pink! Those are the rules, remember?" _

_ "It's... gonna be a while..." _

_"Mama, why is your blue getting bigger?" Palette gasped and ran at his legs, clinging tightly. "I made mama's blues worse! I'm sorry mama! I won't talk about daddy again, promise!"_ _With a bright, sunny smile, the little skelton declared, “I’ll never, ever make mama sad again!”_

_ His own smile came easily. “Oh, honeybun, you could never make me sad.” _

_ “Then-” _

“Dream,” Reaper whispered, “why… why are you crying?”

With a shaky, gasping breath, Dream found himself back in the present. Disoriented, he tried to speak, but all he could manage was a broken sob before burying his face in his hands.  _ Wh… what… What was that?  _ Memories, he knew, but… Stars, there was so much.

Cree’s absence..

Palette’s birth.

_ Palette.  _

At once, he went cold.

**_Negativity._ **

Negativity… Negativity  _ knew.  _ Of course he knew though, because he- he was there. He held his hand through the labor he led, and cradled Palette close to his chest before even Dream himself did. He- Negativity washed his fresh little baby for him, and wrapped him, and he- 

_ "I won't ever let Cree know about him," Negativity promised, smiling. _

And like an utter fool, Dream smiled back and  _ thanked him. _ He fell right into his br- into that  _ bastard's _ trap and  _ thanked _ him for keeping his child a secret for Palette's father. From  _ Cree. _

"Ink? Ink...!"

Reaper's voice reached him, but the words themselves were lost in his- his  _ rage. _ He trusted Negativity. He was a  _ fool. _

"Posi?" 

Again, the voice reached him, but only the voice. He didn't understand the call of his name or even really feel the worried hands coaxing him back, off of Reaper's lap. Blind with fury, he merely blinked sockets full of golden light and cried glowing tears he didn't realize were blackening, like molten gold cooled into the darkest of metals. 

"I... I  **t r u s t e d** him..." 

The sentence was bitter. Sickening. If he had half a mind cleared of festering rage, he would have realized that was due to the foul emotions within him. Hatred, anger... these were the things he was never meant to house, not for long, at least. No, he was meant to take these horrid feelings and ease them into joyful emotions, but he couldn't. He couldn't! He just- he- 

**_"I trusted him!"_ **

And just as his golden light turned dark and foul as negativity seeped from his form, a scream rang out. 

_ Geno,  _ Dream acknowledged, but he was too far gone to care. All he could focus on, all he wanted to think of, was Negativity and the way his neck would feel in his hold as Dream wrung all the fucking life out of that lying, monsterous-

The terrified scream acting as a symphony for his darkening thoughts was cut short by a frantic jump through the worlds that dragged Dream from the house. He barely noticed the change in scenery, though he didn’t give a fuck either way. 

"Posi, look at me hon. You remember our connection?" Ink held the other primordial's head in his hands, staring into his sockets. "Push those bad feelings towards me. You'll make yourself sick if you hold onto them." 

"I trusted him, Cree," he growled spitefully. "I fucking trusted him-" 

Alarm shot down Ink's spine, but he let that drift off into the back of his mind. Dream was more important. Urgently, he nudged at the bond between them and insisted, "Dream, let these feelings go. Please, let them go now."  _ Stars, his skull was already getting too hot. _

Tears continued to fall thickly. "I abandoned him," he whimpered. "I-  _ fuck _ , I never told you because I thought you abandoned us...!  _ And I fucking trusted him...!" _ That rage warred with fear. "Cree-" 

Creativity stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Dream. "Let it go," he soothed, resting his head atop the shorter skeleton's. Now, the elder was gently coaxing those emotions into himself, not understanding why they were there or what triggered their appearance but simply wishing to alleviate the pain Dream was unwittingly putting himself through. "It's going to be okay, Dream. I promise, it will be, in the end." 

Now, the younger shivered, pressing further into his hold.  _ Promise...? _

_ "I'll be back soon for you," Dream whispered to the star-eyed boy, kissing his head as his sockets drifted close. "Mama will be back soon, I promise. Then we can have some honey buns and tea." _

The next sob that shook Dream's body was tinted gold, clear of poisonous rage. However, even Cree couldn’t siphon all the sorrow it left behind and, with a broken sob, Dream fell against him; hurt. Betrayed. 

And lost.

_ I… I don’t remember...  _

“Shh… it’s going to be okay, Posi.”

_ “Honey buns?” Excited, Palette snuggled into his little makeshift bed with a bright smile. Above them, glowing crystals reflected the light of his starry eyes. “Don’t forget, okay mama?” _

“I got you, Posi, so just… shhh, calm down.”

_ I don’t remember. _

_ “Don’t forget? Silly, how could I possibly ever do that?” _

“Shhh,” Ink continued to comfort. And Dream?

Dream closed his eyes, and _wailed._

_ I don’t remember where you are. _


	27. One Step Forward...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things, while not great, have at least been going... good. Right?

At first, he wasn't sure what woke him. They all slept a little lighter these days, but the role of a nursing mother was an exhaustive one when duty piled upon all of the weight his shoulders already bore. Sometimes, what was meant to be a quick rest turned into hours of sleep. Other times, the softest sound would wake him.

Geno was sure the nap he settled down with the children for was going to end up a few hours longer than intended, but when his bleary gaze landed on the clock, he saw that not much time passed from when he first closed his eyes.  _ Huh... _ Distantly, he thought it odd he woke over nothing, but sleep was already calling once more, so he let his sockets drift shut; happy to rest for just a little while longer.

Then, he realized that Paperjam wasn't in his arms.

With a start, he jerked up and forcefully rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "J-Jammy?" he called out, instantly feeling like a fool when he found the eldest of the children curled up barely a foot away.  _ Oh… They... they probably rolled out of my arms... _

Feeling foolish, he carefully pulled them back into his embrace before doing the same to Goth until both of the older children were cradled in his arms. Perhaps it was silly of him to feel the need to clutch them close, but he felt... he felt safe like this. He felt like  _ they _ were safe. Like this, no one could snatch them away from him, because he- he wouldn’t let them, damnit. He would keep all of their children safe-

And then, the lingering sleepy haze in his mind cleared.

_ The twins-! _

Geno sat up sharply again, accidentally disturbing Paperjam and Goth from their sleepy haze as he whirled around to check on the twins- 

Still sleeping in their crib. 

For a moment, all he could do was stare at the twins, and his mind finally finally processed that they were okay. And safe. And alive. And… and there. 

Then... what the hell woke him up...?  _ Maybe it was a bad dream...? _ Rubbing his sockets, Geno yawned and slipped out of the bed, though he was quick to pause at the slurred, confused calls of his name. 

“Everything is- everything is okay,” he promised, whispering the words against little skulls as he helped Paperjam and Goth get comfortable together. Tucking them in, he waited until their breathing evened out yet again before shuffling away. Only, when he got to the door of the bedroom, Geno found himself hesitating.

He... he could just take a quick walk around, right? It would be fast, and he could even shortcut back at the drop of a hat if anything happened.  _ It... it wouldn't be a big deal, right...? _ Geno tried to push himself to take the first step out of the room but he froze yet again, glancing back to the four kids who were all oh so vulnerable in their sleep.  _ I... I can't.... _

A text was all it took for Error to appear at the doorway, though he wasn’t alone. Truthfully, Geno wasn't really all that surprised to find Cross just a small step behind his brother. If anything, he was... grateful.  _ Cross… Cross is safe, and strong.  _ He’d keep everyone safe.

With sleep softening his voice, Geno whispered, "Can you watch over them for a moment...? I just need to use the restroom." It wasn't entirely a lie. Still, it was more like an excuse to take a small walk around without feeling guilty over leaving the kids alone or waking them up for something so… so  _ stupid  _ like his dumb paranoia.  _ I should be better than this…  _

"Of course, Ge," Error murmured. Behind him, Cross nodded and glanced into the room with a careful, observant gaze. “Just don’t fall into the damn toilet, okay? I’m not going to fish you out if you do.”

He didn't think they'd say no, but a bit of tension melted away when Error didn't outright deny his request. "Th... thanks, I'll just- I won't take long, promise. A-and I won’t fall in," he added, trying to muster up a convincing smile.

Cross shook his head, smiling. The expression was a little awkward, but that wasn't entirely a bad thing. In a lot of ways, it was cute. Charming, actually. Had he been in a better state of mind, Geno would have let himself enjoy the little crooked grin. "Hey, take as long as you need, okay? We don't mind watching the children if you want to shower, or maybe even take a little walk?" 

The words were casual, but the black and white clad skeleton's gaze was knowing. 

_ Busted. _

Feeling a little ashamed, Geno dropped his gaze and nodded with a shaky smile. "T-thanks," he whispered, pausing to check over the children one, two, three more times just to be positive they were safe. "Come get me if they-"

"Ge," Error interrupted. His voice was as irritated and gruff as always, but the younger of the two brothers knew it wasn't malicious. "We know what to do, okay? Go take your wa- uh, bathroom break. We'll keep an eye on the brats."

"...Thank you..." Stars, he was little more than a broken record, but Geno- he just couldn't help it.  _ Yes, thank you, please... It's like these are the only words I know now. _ He tried not to recall the reasons why. 

Like always, he failed at doing so.

_ "Hm? What was that, little Ge-no-cide?" _

_ He had no pride left to swallow, so Geno bowed his head and whispered a broken, "Please...?" _

_ "Please...?" _

_ "...Please, Nighty?" he corrected himself, gaze dull.  _

Before the panic could show on his expression, Geno spun on his heels and forced himself to walk away. He did stop at the bathroom, yes, but when he left the powder room, he was quick to roam.  _ I... I'll just check on the others... _ and then he’d return to his room, just like his brother and Cross were expecting him too.

_ "Good boy, Genocide." Cool air tickled uncomfortable places when a tendril lifted the hem of the borrowed shirt he wore slightly. "Your obedience earns your family's safety yet again. _

_ Just a quick check _ , he vowed, pace quickening the slightest bit.

Though... nobody seemed to be where they usually were. He checked the kitchen first, but while Dream’s things were spread across the table, the golden eyed skeleton himself was nowhere to be found. Around his time of day, Spright should have been in the back, but he was missing as well. 

_ Maybe… maybe he went to meet Res…?  _ Sometimes, his youngest brother liked to meet up with Respite at the end of the shifts so that the two could return home together. It was cute, but more than just a little nerve wracking when Geno was so dependent on knowing where everyone was.  _ Error and Cross are in my room with the children, Reaps should still be at work…  _

So, Dream was missing, and Ink-

_ There…! _

From the corner of his eye, Geno caught a glimpse of a familiar brown scarf cutting through the air just before footsteps pounded up the stairs.  _ Ink…?  _ Frowning, the glitch weighed his options for a few seconds before creeping back up the stairs and down the hall.  _ He’s going into Dream’s room… _

Again, Geno took a moment to consider his options. Ink must have been in a hurry if he didn’t even stop to greet him. Did that mean that something was wrong?  _ Or… or, maybe, they’re going to…? _

A burst of warmth left Geno flustered as he recalled just what Ink and Error got up to not too long ago. There was history between the artist and Dream, and Ink was clearly fine with being sexually active again, so… so maybe they were…  _ I… I should give them some privacy, just- just in case. _

And yet, his paranoia remained. Like the fiend that it was, it whispered all of his fears straight into his thoughts until he was left trembling at a series of what-ifs, each one worse than the last.  _ What if he was hurrying because something terrible happened? What if Dream is hurt? What if… what if Dream is  _ **_gone?_ **

Swallowing thickly, Geno did his best to gather the shattered remains of his courage and took a little step forward, towards the room. He- he could hear Dream’s voice, so that was good, right? And… and if it  _ was  _ just the two fooling around, then… then maybe...

_ Maybe… I'll catch a glimpse of Dream without his shirt...? _ The warmth in his face grew at the thought, then burned a darker red when he recalled the faint glimpse of tattoos he caught so long ago. Geno could admit that he was…  _ attracted _ to Dream, but what little sparks of arousal he found himself with sputtered out without much of a fight when fuzzy memories and vague sensations turned interest into illness. 

"Ne... never... mind..." he whispered, pressing a palm over his stomach. Suddenly, he didn't feel all that well.  _ Just... find them, check in, and go back to sleep with the kids. _

Thankfully, the doorway to Dream's room didn't seem so intimidating, even when his attraction to the skeleton did. Smiling faintly, Geno stepped inside and looked up. “U-um, Ink? Dream-”

Terror shot through him, and Geno froze.

_ It's still Dream, _ his mind proclaimed.  _ It's still Dream it's still Dream it's still Dream, _ otherwise his husbands wouldn't look so concerned. For Reaper— _ when did he get home?  _ Geno wondered distantly—it was a wide-eyed shock, and for Ink, it was more a urgent nervousness, but- 

_ It's still Dream. _

Was it? 

The man with his head cradled in Ink's hands had such a… an intense look of  _ rage  _ in his expression. It… it was such a thick, heavy darkness that Geno swore he could  _ feel  _ it when it began manifesting around Dre-  _ him _ like a dark aura, or some… s-some sort of shadow that threatened to consume all the light within the room. All the  _ good  _ too, it seemed. Just- just standing there, watching, Geno- he could feel it; what little fragments of joy he had just… just…  _ eroding. _

Then, beautiful gold began to- to  _ corrupt.  _ What was a pleasant, shimmering and so very  _ bright  _ hue of color blackened into a darker, grotesque shade that reminded Geno of healing bruises. But the black sludge that dripped in place of gilded starlights… the… the  _ tendril—  _

_ Nighty, it's Nighty, it's- _

Nothing was able to stop the scream that ripped from him.

_ He’s back. _


	28. ...Two Steps Back...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno showcases his habit of focusing on his mistakes, not his progress. Also, he's a weeb.

When Ink vanished, his panic only worsened as terror sent his heart racing.  _ Oh... oh gods-! _

Geno was babbling, but even his own voice fell on deaf ears as he trembled in place, desperately wanting to- to move! Because- "He- he t-took Ink, o-oh gods, he took-" Muttering what was now a mantra, the glitch rocked in place; torn. Terrified.  _ I… I have to... _

"Gen-" At his flinch, Reaper hesitated.  _ He... he can't trust me. _ Geno's reasons were understandable, yet that did little to soothe the ache in his chest. "Geno," he crooned anyways, knowing that something had to be done. "Gen, it- it's okay. That wasn't...  _ him, _ honey. Who you saw... Dream was just having a... difficult moment."

"N-no, no, no... he- he has Ink! Inky!" Geno groaned, sounding almost pained beneath the weight of his fear. "I saw- his eyes-!

"They were... a little frightening, I know, but they were Dream's eyes, hon. Gen, I promise- Geno," Reaper interrupted himself, voice growing firmer. In the distance, Merci's familiar cry was now echoing as the infant sensed her mother's spiraling emotions. And yet, his sudden stern tone only frightened Geno further.  _ I... I don't know what to do... _

"Geno.”

With a whimper, the glitch shied away from the doorway where Cross now stood.

Uncertainly, the guard assessed the situation and looked back to Geno. "Gen," Cross murmured. A frightened pinprick of an eyelight met his and Cross forced a smile on his face. "It was just Dream and Ink." Softer, he added, "Promise. Once Ink's calmed Dream down, they'll both be back here, okay?" 

_ N...no...! No...! _ Gods, he didn't want "Dream" back here...! He...! Shuddering, Geno inched away and collapsed to his knees. With another blink, his palms were hiding his sockets, though they couldn't disguise the way his tears sluggishly leaked from them.  _ Stop… please stop. You- you don’t have time to be pathetic! You have to get up! Ink- he has Ink! Stop being so fucking weak! Pathetic! You- _

Seeming to sense what his thoughts said, Cross announced that he was moving closer before a hand came to rest on his shoulder. "You aren't pathetic, Gen... You're healing okay? And this was an unexpected and unpleasant thing for you to witness. But it's okay.  _ You’re  _ okay, and so is Ink. Everything is fine." 

"Not...!" Geno sobbed, curling up tighter. 

"It is." Cross insisted. "It… it’s just going to take time until it  _ feels  _ that way."

_ How much? _ Geno wanted to ask, but all he could muster was a pitiful croak as his voice failed him.  _ Pathetic, _ he thought, guiltily avoiding Cross' gaze as his own poor self confidence steamrolled the other skeleton's attempt at help. "I... Ink..."

"Like I said, Ge: Ink is safe. I… I know that there's maybe more to him than any of us expected, but... Dream is still  _ Dream. _ No matter how upset he may be at the moment, he won't hurt Ink."

"...He wasn't angry," Reaper added, feeling helpless as he watched Geno crumble right before his eyes.  _ Gen... _ "I- I don't know what happened, but... Dream didn't look like...  _ that _ because he was angry, Geno."  _ At least, not because he was angry at  _ **_Ink..._ ** "I don't know why, but... I think he was sad, honey.  _ Hurt." _

Geno wanted to trust Reaper, he did, but...

_ "Ge-no~" Reaper crooned. A soft grip settled around his wrist, tugging gently in an attempt to pull Geno's hands away from his eyes. "You don't have to be scared anymore, baby. Promise." _

_ "N-no...! You- y-you said that... th... that last t-time....!" But no, he didn't. That wasn't Reaper at all, and anything said in his very first husband's voice couldn't be trusted. Not here, in this- this hell! "Y... you aren't..." _

_ "Gen... Honey, I swear it's me. You just have to look, okay? All you have to do is look at me, right in my eyes." _

_ Were he in a better mindset, Geno would have known that his so-called husband's words were off. He was... Stars, he was just so scared though. All he wanted in that moment was to look up and know that it was truly Reaper addressing him, and that they could finally just go home. _

I... I don't even know how long it's been... _ he thought, wishing he took the chance to observe his own form upon waking rather than rushing to hide his gaze. "I..." _

_ "Just look at me, Ge." _

_ And full of desperation, Geno did. _

_ Emeralds flared bright, shining even through the fog that began creeping into his thoughts, muddling his senses. "Good boy." _

“No… nononono… I can’t… I can’t!” Geno sobbed, missing the look shared between the other skeletons in the room. 

"What's going on...?” Error called from the doorway, unintentionally startling his brother who whimpered at the unexpected addition. 

Reaper faked a smile at him and tried to keep his voice... neutral? Whatever it was, it sounded distant. "Oh, Error. Can you help me in the kitchen for a moment?" With a blink, the god was next to Error and linking arms with him. 

Merci’s wailing was getting worse. 

Once the others were out of sight, Cross gave the glitch a gentle nudge and nodded in the direction of Geno’s room. "Take what time you need okay? I'm going to head over there to try and calm her down."  _ Stars, this isn’t how I wanted my first time handling the twins alone to go. _

Drawn in by the noise, PJ and Goth were now wide awake and watching everything from the hall with sockets the size of the moon. When Cross stepped around them on his way out, the two were quick to fill in the doorway. 

"Mama?" Goth finally chirped up questioningly. PJ looked worried though surprisingly kept quiet, their eyes following Cross’ trek down the hallway closely. More so than Goth, they seemed… aware; knowing in some way. “Mama, what’s wrong? How come you’re…” 

“I… I’m fine, honey. I just- Mama is- I’m having…” 

Unsure what to say in order to explain himself, Geno forced a smile that was unconvincing, but the children, though young, wisely kept their observations to themselves. Instead, Goth made his way over and dropped down to press himself into his mother's hold, concerned. Used to their father's reluctance to be touched when distressed, Paperjam hesitated before ultimately copying their brother's actions and snuggling close. 

"It's gonna be okay, daddy Geno," they promised, copying what everyone so often reassured them with whenever they grew distraught. Putting on a bright smile, Paperjam grinned. "Wanna see me make a dragon? I got even better at them, ya know? I can make you a pink one again, daddy Geno!"

"I c-can help!" Goth chirped, not wanting to be left out. He and Jammy decided all by themselves that everyone could be a daddy, but Geno was still  _ his _ mommy and he wanted to help make him happy. That way, his daddy-daddy and all the other ones would be happy too! "Jammy lets me put glitter on them!"

"...Y... yeah?" Geno whispered, voice faint even as he swallowed to clear his throat. "I- I think seeing a sparkly dragon would be nice."

"A sparkly pink dragon!"

Smiling was... difficult, but Geno managed it. "A sparkly-"

_ He felt groggy, and yet... Geno couldn't sleep. He couldn't entirely wake up though, either. Instead, he merely drifted about in a strange in-between of half wakefulness as a familiar voice washed over him. Deep, low... _

_ Somehow, it felt wrong to call that voice comforting, but it was. _

_ "Huh..." Something soft trailed across his form. Fabric? He didn't know for sure. It was ticklish though, and... not pleasant, but grounding in a way he didn't realize he needed until he found himself attempting to cling to that sensation. "I'm surprised, you actually look acceptable in this color." _

_ Geno thought he might have blinked, but he wasn't sure. Everything was hazy, almost like a distorted dream. Even so, when he strained his eyes, he thought he caught sight of… of something? It looked nice. _

_ A chuckle. "I think I'll dress you in this sweet little hue tonight. Ah, but lets keep you cool for just a while longer. I’m sure Cree is enjoying the chill." _

"-pink," Geno shuddered, "d...dragon it is."

If they noticed the stutter, or his pause, then the children were kind enough not to mention it. Instead the two gasped excitedly and ran out the room to grab their supplies. “Mari and Merci can help!” Goth decided, shouting the words over his shoulder.

_ Marigold… Merciful… _

Shakily, Geno pushed himself up and stumbled down the hall. He felt weak—faint—but he forced his legs to move until he found himself back in his room.  _ My babies... _

Standing near the cribs, Cross fussed over the youngest twin with a hint of nervousness in his expression. Thankfully, Merci didn’t seem to be latching onto the guard’s concern, and merely blinked up at him with wet yet fearless eyes. 

_ How long will that last? _ Geno thought, trying to push the fear and bitterness down as far as it could go. He didn’t want to toy with Merci’s emotions just because he couldn’t handle his own.  _ How long can we protect them from… from fear and pain and… and all the other scary things in the world…?  _ The twins were still so new to the world, but how long would their innocence last? They were already- already suffering his own mistakes, so how long would it take him to fail them in worse ways?  _ That should be me holding Merci, calming her. _

But it was his own weakness that started her fit to begin with.

_ It… it’s not fair…  _ Trying to not cry again, he walked over and gently pulled Mar into his arms. As was now the norm, the smaller of the twins didn't seem to wake up at the commotion, though he nestled sleepily into his mother's embrace when he felt Geno’s warm.  _ It’s almost feeding time…  _ Truthfully, he dreaded it. Somehow, Mar’s teeth always managed to find the ugly scar bitten into his chest- 

Quickly, he stomped down instinctual terror. Over and over again, he pushed everything down, fearful of hearing even a single upset sniffle from Merci.  _ Why does everything have to remind me of him...?!  _

Cross, now seated on the bed, watched Geno wander over and settle himself slowly next to him. The guard made no move to comfort Geno this time, which the glitch was both thankful for and a little disappointed over. Instead, the taller skeleton simply stayed quiet and held the only girl of the household, amusing her with his fingers, one of which she snatched one into her mouth to drool over.

"It's strange..." Cross mused, breaking the silence that settled over them. 

Geno glanced over. "What is...?" 

"Just… ya know—them. The twins, I mean. Bit by bit, they’re going to grow. They… they’ll learn how to talk, and… and they’ll crawl… walk…  _ run.  _ They’re going to get so- so  _ big  _ one day, and... I don't know. It doesn't feel real, I guess. Right now, these two tiny, fragile babies are just so… so  _ small,  _ but that’s going to change and, one day, I won’t be able to cradle them in my arms like I can right now.” A little awed, and with a hint of his own fear shimmering through, Cross whispered, "A-and... I'm going to get to  _ see _ it… I’m going to get to watch them grow, and that’s… that’s just…  _ wow. _ " 

Slowly, Geno felt some tension leave his shoulders. "Y-yeah... Yeah Cross... they're gonna grow.. a-and they're gonna be as tall as Goth and PJ, then grow taller. M-maybe even be as tall as m-me...!" Ink and Reaper were the skyscrapers of this family, so maybe they'd be even taller, but... well, Geno cursed Goth with his short genes, and Geno had a feeling the twins wouldn't be able to escape that. "But you can be there w-with me- us. With  _ us… _ the… the whole way through, i-if you want..."

“Heh, is that what  _ you  _ want?”

At that, Geno faltered. Then, quietly, he admitted, "...I... I'm afraid of things that I want..." When Mar stirred and blinking his sockets opened, Geno shifted him a bit, then moved him yet again when the smallest twin began patting his chest. He could tell it was curiosity rather than hunger, but even his child's innocent prodding left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.  _ Not... not there, not where that scar is...  _

"Why?" Intentionally pulling the glitch from his thoughts with his curiosity, Cross angled his head in a confused tilt. "Maybe it's a little presumptuous, but you don't really seem like the type of person with desires that'd cause a lot of harm."

_ I was willing to sacrifice everything and everyone I ever loved just to end the torture only I really had to suffer, _ Geno thought, thinking back to the genocides with an old pang of remorse. He tried not to think of the only other survivor of his world. "I'm... pretty selfish, Cross. And selfishness only ever really hurts other people.”

_ He stopped stuttering.  _ Good. "Can I be honest for a second, Geno?"

"Yeah..."

Cross dropped his gaze back down to Merciful to spare Geno from the weight of his gaze. The last thing he wanted to do was increase the other's nerves. "I think... I think that, out of everyone, you deserve to be a little selfish right now. I can't think of a single thing anyone would fault you for asking for."

"...But how... how do I know it's  _ real?"  _ And just like that, the locks keeping everything hidden fell away. "I- I want to be able to be- be picked up and carried around and- and touched without being so fucking  _ scared. _ Reaps- he used to be able to snatch me up out of nowhere and it was- it was always  _ okay, _ but now I can barely share a bed with him without-" Frustrated tears replaced those of fear and sorrow. "I... I can't trust my own desires... I can't trust that what I ask for won't be another trick..."

"...Can you trust in us?"

"C-can I trust in- o-of course...! I can t-trust in  _ you _ but... but what… what if you  _ aren't _ you...?" 

_ Fair point... _ With a sigh, Cross murmured, "I’m… probably going to get stuck saying this a lot, but… it’s okay to be uncertain, Geno. It’s okay to be afraid, too. What you went through…” Briefly, he thought about everything he was keeping behind lock and key. Negativity, the  _ services  _ he offered him… His secrets left him chilled, so Cross carried on. “Look, it's going to be hard. It  _ is  _ hard right now, but… it can get better, Geno. I… know that today probably left you feeling a little uncertain, but with Ink and Dream—” Geno flinched at the sound of the guardian’s name “— around, we’re… safer. Protected, in a way. They can tell you who is who, remember? So… do you think that, maybe, that’ll help you trust us just a little bit more?” Hesitantly, he added, "I could teach you self-defense too, if that’d help...?" 

_ Self-defense...? _ It… wasn’t something that Geno ever really considered, but… he could see Cross’ reasons for suggesting it. Usually, he could hold his own in a fight. Maybe not against someone like Ink, or… or  _ him,  _ but he could get by. With Cross’ help though, he- he could improve. At the very least, he would be able to keep himself… safe.  _ I… I could protect the children better, too… _

Gulping, Geno nodded slightly. "Um, the twins-"

“We can set them up in their own little corner, don’t worry.”

That was one concern down. “I… how h-hands-on is this?” 

"We won't do anything that will make you uncomfortable."

_ But everything makes me uncomfortable,  _ Geno thought. Closing his eyes to sleep, the eerie silence of the house when he  _ didn't _ sleep, closed doors, open doors… locked doors... everything around him was full of uncertainties and, no matter what he did, Geno couldn't just... get over it all. He hated it. Stars, he hated all of this so much.

But he was so tired of that hate. His frustration, the terror, all the sorrow and anxiety... it consumed him more and more each day. Now, he felt like- like one of Error's old dolls; worn and falling apart at the seams.

_ Well used, _ he thought, and tried not to shudder.

"I... I don't think I can handle close combat right now..." Geno said, the admission leaving a sour taste in his mouth. "And I- knives. I can't- I'm trying when it comes to cooking, but I- it's hard." Another factor that contributed to this... constant spiral he was going through.  _ What happened to you? Where did all of your confidence go? _

As plain, happy boring Sans, he was never one for cooking, but that changed after marriage. It was fun, Geno found, and it- it was good for stress, too. But now he couldn't even manage most of the dishes he liked without help, or a pair of misused scissors. "I just- I don't really know what else that leaves."

"A lot, actually! Close combat is useful, but it isn't something we need to necessarily tackle right away! For now, we'll focus on helping to make sure that you don't get in a position where you, uh,  _ need _ to resort to close combat. I think… when you’re ready, we’ll work on hand-to-hand, but I think our goal should be all the ways you can make sure an enemy never gets that close to you."

That was… relieving, but… still... "I'll... I'll think about it...?" 

It wasn’t much, but Cross seemed relieved at his response. Was it the thought of Geno in a position that he couldn't get out of...? Or was he proud that Geno wanted to change? Either way, it brought a small smile to Geno's face.  _ I'm trying, _ he promised, even if only he could hear the thought. “I… I’m sorry you’re so limited in what you can teach. If- I really am trying with the… the k-knives…” 

"And you're getting better with it!" Cross added helpfully. "I mean, you’re comfortable enough to have them in the kitchen now! And, honestly, I don't mind mincing and dicing things up for you right now! It's... it's kinda nice..." he added sheepishly. "I didn't like cooking when I was... well, when I had my own world, but... it's a lot nicer with someone else there to talk to." 

Truthfully, Geno felt the same. "You like cooking with me...?" 

"Yeah!" Even with his emotions as unsteady as they were, Geno had to crack a smile at the sight of Cross embarrassed little blush. It was… cute. "A-and there's more opportunities to make stuff that shows up in anime!” Instantly, the other cringed.  _ Stars, that’s… really lame, huh? “ _ U-um... o-only if you're comfortable trying new things, I mean… what?” Cross mumbled, averting his gaze from the intense stare Geno was giving him. “I… the stuff from those shows looks really good!”

And for the first time in  _ weeks,  _ Geno forgot to be afraid, or nervous, and a dozen other things he usually scolded himself for feeling. Instead, he lit up with a bright, genuine smile.

When it came to his... stay at the castle, Geno did everything he could to find himself a lifeline when trapped in that mockery of the save screen. Often, that ended up being Cross. Even when the other skeleton kept his silence, just having someone there... it helped. Not for long, but... but still, it helped.

Admittedly, he didn't really... enjoy their conversations, though not because they were necessarily boring or anything. In truth, Geno was able to scrape together tiny moments of good humor and fun whenever Cross let his mask of the dutiful lackey slip, but... but his inevitable departure always soiled what good Geno could find. Sooner or later, Cross would have to leave. And when he did...?

_ "Good evening, Genocide." _

E... Eventually, their talks just kind of... passed over him. He clung to the company with such great desperation that it left little room to really focus on what was being said. Something about anime, something about a... a book? No, manga. He had fragments, but a majority of what he could recall now was steeped in anxiety and an unshakeable sense of doom.

Now though, they... they had time. Cross wasn't guarding him, and he wasn't leaving Geno behind. They could talk, and Geno could... he could have some real fun with it; he could sink into small talk and rants and just- enjoy.

"...Have... have you ever tried making a bento?" he questioned, a little embarrassed himself. Reaper indulged him more than he deserved, but... the god didn't really  _ like  _ anime. What he enjoyed was watching  _ Geno  _ watch anime, which meant that the god usually focused on his expression instead of the actual screen whenever they sat down together to try out a new show. "I think we have one around here somewhere."

Immediately, Cross brightened. His expression was so… so  _ sweet,  _ and hopeful. It made- it made Geno feel… warm. Comfortable too, and… and just a little more relaxed than before. 

_ I... I can get better... _ Geno found himself thinking.  _ I… I  _ **_want_ ** _ to get better… _

Both for his family, and for himself.

"O-oh, I- Geno, I think Merci needs her diaper changed...!"

But mostly for his family.


	29. Fight Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some good ole training takes place. Unfortunately, it's not as sexy this time.

Unfortunately, improvement took both time and effort; two things that were hard to muster up in the wake of… everything, really.

While Geno  _ wanted  _ to do better, he found it difficult to reach his goals when there was just  _ so much  _ going on in his head. His fears, his paranoia, the constant anxiety and random flashes of… memories? Nightmares? Sometimes, it was difficult to tell the two apart—to figure out if what he was seeing was a blurry fragment from his capture, or a terrifying hallucination brought along by too little sleep.

Truthfully, he didn’t really _ want _ to know which one it was. Some of the little scenes he found himself stuck in… they were horrible. Humiliating too, because- because there were just so many instances where he just  _ sat there;  _ merely existing as tendrils slid across his form and a wide, white smile whispered poison words across his skull. 

It wasn't just the uncertain truths that frightened him, however. Sometimes— 

_ “I wonder if he can feel this…” A hand on his thigh, teeth against his neck. “Connections are such finicky little things, so it all depends on just how deep your bond now runs…. Tell me, little Genocide.” A light grip on his chin, angling his head so that his hazy, spotting vision had no choice but to focus on bright emerald eyes. “Can you feel him within you; his claws dug deep, deep,  _ **_deep_ ** _ into your SOUL? ...Hm, no answer? Well then, perhaps I should crack it open just to see?” _

_ He tries to talk. He fails. _

_ Claws press into the battered surface of his SOUL. _

—Sometimes, it was the fact that it was just  _ so easy  _ to blink and suddenly find himself stuck in his head yet again—frozen stiff and still as a new scenario plays right before his eyes. It was downright terrifying to blink in the middle of a thought and just- float away, almost. His body stayed put, but his mind fled and he never really knew what was going to set it off, or how long it would take before the moment passed.

As the instances grew more frequent, Geno found himself starting to worry about them more and more. He was doing a… somewhat decent job at hiding his current troubles, but he knew he couldn’t keep this a poorly concealed secret for long. What if it happened when he was feeding the twins? What if he- he  _ dropped them  _ because his- his instincts ran off with his thoughts and he just- just  _ let go? _ Merciful was a little sturdier than her fragile older brother, but they were both so young. A tumble to the ground could be dangerous.  _ Fatal.  _ Geno  _ had  _ to tell someone about his worsening mental state. He  _ had  _ to, but… but even with his resolve to move forward and heal, it was just  _ so damn hard.  _ At the end of the day, all he really did was just… struggle; with his fears, his damn inability to do what needed to be done… with  _ everything  _ really, because it was all one big struggle for him.

And the others knew it, too.

* * *

"...I'm a horrible husband," Reaper whined, voice high and annoying to hide the honest insecurity of the words. "I can't help Gen..."

Any other day, Dream would have sat Reaper down to tackle his insecurities. With a gentle smile and a soft, soothing voice, he’d coax all of the troubles from the god until all of his worries were laid out flat between them. Then, the golden eyed primordial would have spent as many hours as it took to ensure that all those concerns were put to rest.

At the moment, Dream didn’t have the patience for  _ any  _ of that, however. He was no less kind, and he definitely wasn’t suddenly cruel, but the incident that Reaper didn’t have enough courage to address ended up leaving Dream in… not necessarily a foul mood, but with a notably shorter temper… and a tightly sealed smile, too.

_ “Dream…!” The relief in his voice was obvious, but Reaper didn’t bother feeling embarrassed for being happy to see his boyfriend. After what happened, he was just relieved to see the shorter skeleton back home safe. And less… drippy. “H-hey, sunstar, did you- uh, did you-” _

_ “Reaps,” Dream murmured. He seemed tired. Sad. “I… I know you were worried, but… I’m fine, okay? And I- I just really don’t want to talk about what happened.” The gentle, gilded hue of the guardian’s eyelights sharpened. “...And I’d appreciate it if you kept everything that I told you a secret.” _

_ “Dream…” Ink began, frowning down at the other primordial. _

_ Reaper wasn’t the only one that noticed the way Dream couldn’t seem to bring himself to look the artist in the eye. “...I already told you, Ink,” he whispered, “I… I’m not ready to tell you what happened. I- just give me time, please.” _

_ “Dream-” _

_ “Please,” Dream repeated, and there was desperation in his voice this time. He was begging; pleading. _

_ “...Okay.” _

"What do you mean you can't help Gen?" Dream questioned, cutting through Reaper’s thoughts with a tone as sharp as a knife. “Why are you even thinking about Geno right now, Reaper? You’re supposed to be focusing on the lesson!” 

"I'm useless!" the god whined again, not really wanting to explain just why his thoughts kept leading back to the smallest of his husbands. 

It felt… kind of pathetic. Dumb, stupid… just really, really pitiful. There were so many other things to worry about, but Reaper couldn’t stop feeling sorry for himself just because he couldn’t figure out how to help…  _ anyone.  _ Not Dream, not Error, Cross, Ink… and certainly not Geno, who took one look at Dream when he stepped into their makeshift training room that morning and  _ screamed. _

And it wasn’t just that bringing down his mood, either. No, it was also the fact that he couldn’t even fix his inability to keep himself safe because he was too- too damn  _ stupid  _ to learn a few new tricks. It was- frustrating. More than that, it was  _ fucking humiliating.  _

_ How can you keep any of them safe if you can’t even protect yourself?  _ Reaper thought bitterly with a heavy, annoyed sigh. “I’m useless…” he repeated, slumping beneath the weight of his own defeat. “Cross can probably do these moves in his sleep, and I- I  _ hit myself in the face with my own hand!  _ Who even does that?!” __

Off to the side, Cross began to look uncomfortable. "Reaper... just because I've got years of training over you doesn't mean you're useless… A-and, uh, I hit myself in the face sometimes, too." Usually late at night when his motor control wasn’t at it’s finest. Blankets could be surprisingly slippery. 

"But I  _ am  _ useless! I'm... I'm-!" 

Dream stopped him short with a cool stare. "Right now, all you are is a  _ student,  _ Reaper. A newbie. You're going to make mistakes, but you're going to learn from them, too. After a bit of practice,  _ you’ll  _ be able to do these moves in your sleep too, so just… stop worrying about Geno, or your insecurities, and just-  _ focus.  _ Learn."

_ I can't even use my wings to get out of the way faster... _ Reaper thought miserably. It was something that Dream decided for him, explaining that his wings could very easily transform from a useful tool to a major weakness in a fight. 

_ “I’ve seen someone get plucked out of the sky by their feathers before, Reaper.”  _ Dream said, though he looked a little confused by whatever memory he saw in that moment.

_ I wonder if Dream has- _

When a staff came down on his head, Reaper yelped. It didn't hurt—truthfully, it was more of a tap than anything—but he wasn't expecting it and the gentle impact left him started.

"Dream," the god whined. “You’re not supposed to be the one fighting me! That’s cheating, sunstar! And now my head hurts!” 

"No, it doesn’t. Now, stop trying to lie your way into a break, and stop moping around, too. Just... get into your damn stance, Reaper," the golden eyed skeleton ordered, motioning for Cross to ready himself across from the god. "You'll feel better after you practice,  _ I promise,  _ because there's no other way of getting these moves down. I’m not going to be nice, understand? And I’m not going to let  _ Cross  _ be nice, either." Dream flashed him a grin. For a moment, Reaper swore he saw a hint of fang before the primordial's smile eased into something deceptively sweet. "The two of us are here to  _ help,  _ not coddle. Now, on the count of three, I want you to use what we showed you to get Cross out of your personal space when he attacks. Understood?”

“...Yeah, understood.”

“Good, then one… two…  _ three!” _

This time, Reaper did… not at all that well, but not as poorly as he expected to. When Cross rushed him, he fell into the position he was taught and- got hit in the face, but he managed to recover just like he was shown how to, and-

From within Dream’s pocket, his phone went off with an alarm that instantly had Reaper whirling around to face the kitchen with an expectant expression. Luckily, Cross managed to pull what would have been a nasty punch, but the god didn’t even seem to notice that he just narrowly avoided a new, ugly bruise.

“Reaper!” Dream snapped.

Said skeleton glanced his way, sheepish. “That was the break alarm! Gen should be back by now! ...Gen? Gen, can you hear me-”

“That was  _ Geno’s  _ break alarm, Reaper. To signal that  _ Geno’s  _ break is over, not that  _ yours  _ begins. You can’t- this may just be training, but you need to know that you absolutely  _ cannot  _ just- just look away from an enemy during a fight! If Cross were  _ anyone  _ else, your cheek would probably be swollen right now,  _ because people don’t just magically stop once they’ve thrown a punch!”  _ Sighing heavily, Dream tried to curb his irritation the best he could. “Cross, can you step into the kitchen and get Geno? I know I said I was going to stay out of it, but… I think I’m going to take over Reaper’s lessons. Besides, Geno is...”

_ Terrified of me,  _ Dream thought with no small amount of regret. He should have had better control of himself. It didn’t matter what his mental state was like at the time, damnit. He- he should have  _ never  _ allowed himself to get that angry.  _ Maybe a bit of action will help with the residual negativity…  _ Ink did what he could, but there was only so much anger that Dream was okay with the artist taking from him. He didn’t want his rage to hurt his hus- boyfriend anymore than it harmed himself. “Reaper, turn my way. I’m your opponent now.” 

Cross cringed. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

The primordial’s gaze didn’t leave Reaper. “Not really, but…” Cross blinked, and suddenly Dream was right in Reaper’s face, lunging with the blunt end of his staff in an attempt to connect with the god’s body. Luckily for Reaper, he dodged easily enough.  _ Good, _ Dream thought,  _ He noticed that I was projecting my movements. _

Though the next moves Dream had in mind...  _ Well, we'll just see how well Reaper fares, won't we?  _

As they began their fighting—which looked a lot more like Reaper desperately dodging vicious swipes—Cross stepped aside and made his escape into the kitchen.

When he didn't find the glitch slumped inside with a bottle of water like he was when Cross left him, the guard spun on his heels and made his way to the stairs instead, careful to keep himself away from the spar going on in the confined space of the living room. He had to awkwardly climb over the sofa they had pushed against the wall to make it, but it was too difficult to reach his destination. 

Sure enough, he found the shorter skeleton in his shared room with Reaper, peering into the cribs that the twins were napping in while his hands fiddled with a baby monitor.

"Geno?" he murmured, knocking on the wall to announce himself. Cross didn’t want to startle the glitch. "I... thought we agreed to leave the twins to their napping while you trained?

"I- I was just-

"Checking that the baby monitor was  _ really  _ working? Again?" Faced with a pitiful expression of shame, Cross softened. "I'm not angry at you, but... if you want to learn, then your attention needs to be on these lessons, Geno. Otherwise, nothing is going to stick. Muscle memory only goes so far, after all.”

"I... I know that.... R-really, I do...! I just..." 

"It's hard," Cross finished for him, smiling understandingly. 

Geno nodded in agreement. "Yeah... yeah, it's hard... it's all hard..." 

He was trying. He was trying constantly to be better but... what if the twins had a problem when everyone's backs were turned? Or, what if he- what if one of those stupid little flashes hit him in the middle of a spar, leaving him open? Stars, if Geno got hurt, then he wouldn’t be able to feed the twins as easily, and they- he already fucked up  _ so much  _ when it came to carrying them properly. He didn’t want to mess up something as simple as making sure his kids got fed.

_ “Gen,” Ink murmured, “You know, we… we could get them bottles? ...And formula, too-” _

No. No no no. He wasn’t so useless that he couldn’t handle feeding the twins. Geno- he wasn’t useless. He wasn’t, he wasn’t, he wasn’t-

Cross broke into the glitch's thoughts, "Would you like to try yoga first...? Some mindful exercises instead? Just… something to help you stay in the moment instead of in the past?" that last sentence was delivered softly, but Cross’ gentle tone couldn’t quite ease all of Geno’s anxiety.

_ I… I forgot how observant he is…  _ Geno wasn’t ready to talk about his slips though, so he focused on what he knew he could handle discussing. "Will that really work...? The exercises, I mean." 

As he spoke, Geno turned a wide, watering, and oh so very hopeful socket on the taller skeleton. It was already bad enough that he couldn't keep to the one thing he and Cross had agreed on—for him to watch Reaper's training to try to learn for himself—so if he messed this up too… 

Well, then maybe it would prove that he actually _ is  _ useless. 

"It... challenging…” Cross began, hesitant. “It's a different kind of difficult though, Geno. You won't have to be in contact with anybody, for one. See, it isn't exactly something that's... gods, I don't know how to explain this..."

“O-oh…”

_ Stars, he- he looks like disappointed puppy…! _

In the end, Cross decided that he just had to do his best to  _ try. _ "...I... used to get... upset. When I was in the castle... alone. Sometimes, training just- it didn't help. There's only so much you can do against an enemy that doesn't move, and the others... well, what little bonds I had with Horror and K- um, his boyfriend went to shit when I took up the position of second. But yoga? It- it was challenging, but calming."

That wide socket and glitch covered eye continued to stare up at him. Stars, it was... it was so cute, but Cross forced the part of him that wanted to sweep Geno into his arms and just- just gush about him back down. Right now, Geno didn't need that, and he... probably wouldn't even  _ want _ that just yet. Not from Cross, at least.  _ We… we haven’t even held hands yet, or- or… a date! We haven’t gone on a date yet, either! _

"You'll... help me if I need it?" Geno questioned

Cross nodded, smiling. He could see interest in the shorter skeleton's gaze, and that was good! He... he really wanted to keep that look there, or maybe even replace it with something like pride or excitement. 

"I can act as the... instructor? I'll show you a move, and then we'll do it together so I can direct you. Sound good?"

With a small smile, Geno nodded. "Should I... change? I… um, I don’t really have anything to work out in..." The admission seemed to embarrass the glitch. “I could find something though, I’m sure?”

Here, Cross hesitated. The shorts Geno wore were fine, but the shirt... "You may... want to put on something... t-tighter... O-or maybe a tank top! ...If you have one? A lot of the poses can- your shirt may slip, and you-" feeling a little warm, he coughed. "You might... f-flash me..."

"...O-oh.."

Not that Cross was complaining about that! But... well, Geno's comfort was more important than his own… i-interest. "You can wear a tank top under that shirt, if you wanted? I think the house is cold enough that we won't really sweat through our clothes?" 

Mutely, Geno nodded in agreement. He took another moment to check on the twins before disappearing into the walk-in closet to change clothes. 

He had to run to his room for the yoga matts stored under his bed, but it didn’t take all that long for Cross to shuffle things around in Geno’s bedroom to make room for them, or for the glitch to emerge from the closet. When he did, both skeletons stopped and stared at each other, confused.

For Cross, it was because, at first glance, it didn’t look like Geno even changed his clothing at all. If not for the slightest outline of some kind of strap over the shorter skeleton’s shoulder, the guard wouldn’t have known that anything was different. 

For Geno, his confusion was based around the fact that Cross was clearly set up in what little space wasn’t dedicated to the bed or cribs. "W-we're doing it here?" he questioned slowly, head tilted and socket blinking up at Cross in confusion. “In the bedroom?”

_ When… when he says it like  _ that… Cross shifted in place, fidgeting as he nodded to the question. "Yep!" For emphasis, he gave the mat next to him a little pat and smile at Geno. "We'll just start with some mindful breathing for now, okay?."

"...Mindful *breathing?" Geno echoed, already looking lost.

Cross chuckled, smiling gently to show that he wasn't making fun of Geno's confusion. "It sounds weird, I know. It'll help though, I think. And if it doesn't? Well, there's no real downside. Just... listen to my instructions, okay? Try to relax, too."

_ Relax... _ Geno wasn't all that confident that he could manage that without falling asleep. Even before the events of his capture left him constantly high strung and on edge, he had a bit of a... laziness problem. Mainly, this just meant that he often stole away moments of peace for naps. "Okay…”

"..."

"..."

"Do you need help, um, relaxing?"

"I don't know...?" 

Cross tilted his head towards the other. "Right.... so... the idea of mindful breathing is to... um... be aware of your breathing? Put your hand on your stomach or over your chest and breath in slowly. Just... notice that you are breathing in and then... let that breath go. Count for a couple seconds each time and just focus solely on counting your breaths in and breaths out." With each line, Cross seemed to get more confident.

Uncertain that this would even work, Geno sat there with a hand on his stomach.  _ The twins used to be here…  _ he thought.  _ Gothy too, five long years ago... O-oh, shit, wait I'm supposed to be thinking about my breathing. _ Trying to shoo away his thoughts, he breathed in and out before remembering,  _ I have to count these? Um... one second, two seconds, three seconds- wait how many seconds should I be breathing in- _

_ “Take a deep breath,” Nighty crooned before he swept in and- _

At this, Geno exhaled sharply and started coughing. _ S-shit…! _

Startled out of his own mindspace, Cross looked over at him. "...How about I continue to talk us through it?" Cross offered. 

With a shy smile, Geno nodded and closed his eyes, focusing on Cross' voice.

* * *

Downstairs, Reaper was basically everything except calm.

"Why are they taking so long? Do you think something happened? Stars, I hope Gen isn't hiding. At least, not anywhere too difficult to find... or with the twins. Oh no, Dream, what if he hid under the bathroom sink and took the twins with- ow!"

"Reaps," was all that Dream said, but the god went still all the same. There was an element of danger in the primordial's voice, and he... really didn't want to be whacked by a staff again, even if it did give him multiple opportunities for a good joke. "Why did you ask me to train you?"

Reaper blinked, surprised. That... really wasn't what he was expecting the other skeleton to toss at him. "Uh....?"

"Humor me.

"...I... want to avoid...  _ him,  _ I guess. Well- no. I just... I'm not used to people... getting close like he can. Honestly, I- for the longest time, only Res could touch me without consequence, then I... well no, that's not true, I guess. You and Ink could touch me, but I didn't know you were, well, you and I-"

"You're rambling." Softening his tone, Dream took a step forward and lowered his weapon to show Reaper that this wasn't another guise for a sneak attack. "Reaps, why did you want to be trained? I've seen you use your scythe, and you're excellent with it. It's only your close combat that needs work."

"...Because I never  _ needed _ close combat," Reaper whispered. "Anyone who ever touched me would just... dust. I didn't need to know how to fight hand-to-hand or get people out of my space because having them close meant an instant win. But now- it isn't like that anymore, and I... I want to protect myself, Dream."

Reaper wasn't quite so touch starved now that he had his family, but that didn't mean that he was prepared for every form of touch there was out there. Specifically, he hadn't been ready for someone touching him to... hurt. Claws digging into his thigh, fingers plucking feathers... nothing he experienced was as bad as what Geno went through, but it wasn't kind. And it sure as hell wasn’t  _ gentle. _

He... he just…

"...I don't want to be hurt," Reaper admitted, voice low and ashamed. "And I don't want to hurt any of  _ you _ by being caught off guard and-"

"Taken again," Dream finished. "I... I don't fault you for your worries, hon. Truthfully... being prepared for an attempt like that is... smart, but... you need to help yourself, Reaps. I know you're concerned about Geno, we all are, but I need you to focus on  _ you. _ You're afraid of being hurt? Of being snatched away? Then pay attention, and  _ learn." _

“...Okay.” Firmer this time, Reaper nodded. “Okay.”

Now, when Dream told Reaper what to do, Reaper listened and acted immediately. Oh, Dream could still tell that the taller skeleton’s thoughts simply wouldn't leave Geno alone, but he was reacting much better, and faster, to Dream's attacks. 

Which was good, because Dream had a lot more left to teach the god, and his poor mood was starting to give way to  _ excitement.  _

_ This… this doesn’t have to be a chore,  _ he realized.  _ This could be… _ **_fun._ ** __

Soon, the only thing that was keeping Reaper from being hurt was Dream's impressive self control, and his desire not to actually hurt his boyfriend. He would stop his blunt staff millimeters from Reaper's body and give a light tap instead, or a teasing little poke. And if he did hit the god, then Dream worked to ensure that, even if the strike came down a little too hard, that his staff was at least without a blade, meaning that the hit would only leave a slight bruise that he knew he could heal in seconds. Or minutes, if Reaper decided to be a brat. 

_ Reaper isn't your real enemy, _ he reminded himself, swiping a glowing hand over Reaper’s arm as he dodged, instantly shooing away an ugly bruise.  _ You can be as angry as you want, but he doesn't deserve to pay for your ire simply because Negativity isn't here to take it instead. Just… let yourself have fun, and make sure he learns these moves with as little pain as possible. _

Geno already thought he was a monster, after all. The last thing Dream wanted to do was reinforce his fears by taking his vile hatred out on their loved one. No, that just wouldn't do, and Dream- he had to be better, damnit. For Geno's sake, for Reaper's... the multiverse…

And above all else: For Palette.

"Hrk...!" Grunting when a palm pressed a harsh strike into his chest, Dream stumbled back and ignored Reaper's startled apologies as he regained his footing. "Good job." Even as he praised the god, Dream cursed himself for his own inattentiveness.  _ You're better than this. Take your own damn advice and keep your focus on the fight, not your thoughts. _

"Dream, I'm-"

"If you can do that again, I'll give you a five minute break to check on Geno."

Whatever apologies Reaper tried to stumble over were gone in an instant as he lunged forward.

_ Good,  _ Dream thought, fending off another attack.  _ Give me everything you got. Fight for yourself, for Geno… come at me with the intent to hurt. To  _ kill,  _ even.  _ He would take everything Reaper threw at him, and Dream would hone his skills the best he could.

He was going to make sure that Negativity never hurt Reaper again, damnit.

“Agh-” Dream grunted, taking the kick to his side with grace. For a moment, just a moment, he saw lying emeralds in place of concerned voids. “Again.” 

One day, he would make sure that Negativity couldn’t hurt  _ anyone  _ again.


	30. We Do Our Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, like the title says, Geno and Error are doing their best.

Sometimes, Error forgot just how much control Cross really had over his expressions. That didn’t necessarily mean that the guard couldn’t be shocked out of his cold, emotionless looks but when he wanted to, Cross could come off as one mean looking son of a bitch.. And apparently? He wanted to look that way _now._

_‘Don’t you DARE mess this up,’_ Cross’ glare said, his eyelights bright yet lacking warmth. Instead, they were frozen over with a frigid chill, and sharp. If looks could kill, then Cross’ icy expression was akin to being murdered by an icicle straight to the SOUL. 

But then, the guard blinked and all that cold, bitter ice melted away. With a sheepish smile, the other skeleton mouthed an apology and glanced down pointedly. _“Look,”_ he instructed, mouth moving but no voice leaving him. Clearly, the guard didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, so Error merely nodded and followed his gaze. Then, he realized what was looking at and jolted, eyes widening.

“Wha-”

“Still doing okay, Geno?” Cross questioned, speaking loudly to cover the sound of Error’s own voice. When the skeleton in his arms flinched in response to the sudden noise, Cross winced. “Sorry,” he apologized, a fresh glare settling on Error. _‘Don’t fuck this up, teach!’_

“Shut the fuck up, I was caught offguard!” Error signed, his motions vicious yet sloppy. Sign wasn’t a language he used often, so he was trying his best to get used to once-familiar motions and gestures, just in case. “Why the _FUCK_ is he holding a knife?!”

That time, Error had a little trouble deciphering just what Cross was saying. You could only really convey so much as a skeleton trying to mouth full on sentences, so he merely gave a silent huff and interrupted the other with a single, crude gesture. His rookie responded with an impressive eye roll, and discreetly nodded to the side, closer to Geno’s bad eye. 

_Stand there?_ Making a show of looking annoyed, Error nodded once and settled himself in against the wall to observe. He didn’t know what the fuck they were doing, but he didn’t like it. Geno and knives? That was a fucking disater waiting to happen. 

“You didn’t answer my question, Geno.” Without having to cover for Error, Cross’ voice was softer; gentle. “Are you still doing okay? We didn’t go into cooking today with this in mind, so… if you want to stop and go into the other room, that’s okay. You already did a lot today, Gen.”

He was talking about the yoga from earlier that day, Error knew. From what he understood, Geno was meant to be learning the same moves as Reaper, but it was definitely yoga and not sparring that he stumbled on earlier. Well, it was either that or some weird ass foreplay, but he was pretty sure that his brother wasn’t quite ready for _that_ just yet, even if Cross’ fitness wear was something out of a wet dream.

_‘Downward whatever was a good time to walk in…’_

“I… I’m o-okay…” Geno reassured, unaware of the firm look that Cross shot Error’s way right when the destroyer was about to snort in response to the clear lie. “I… it’s just a s-small knife. I- I’m fine. I’m f-fine.”

“It’s okay not to be fine,” Cross promised. “You did great during our training today, and you felt good about that—good enough to tackle something you didn’t feel ready to try before. But if that changed, Geno? _Then it's okay._ No one expects you to accomplish everything in a single day. It isn’t realistic.”

_“What are you trying to do, Rookie?” Error demanded. “Get yourself killed by falling onto your own damn sword?”_

_“It was an accident!”_

_“Like hell it was! I can see the magic under your eyes, and the way you’re limping. You spent the entire night here again, didn’t you?”_

_“I… I’m-”_

_“A huge fucking dumnass? Yeah, I know.” Something in him twisted at the sight of Cross’ sorrowful expression, bringing a scowl to his face. “...Look, idiot. I get that you want to do good and shit, but overworking yourself in training ain’t the way. No one expects you to accomplish everything in a single day. That isn’t fucking realistic.”_

_“Night-”_

_“Okay,_ **_I_ ** _don’t expect that from you, and I’m the unlucky bastard in charge of whipping you into shape. Now-”_

“Go take a break if you need it, Geno.” Cross murmured.

_What a fucking copycat,_ Error thought, hiding a smile behind in a scowl. It was… actually kind of nice to realize that he impacted his rookie so much. Flattering, in a way.

“N… no…” 

From his spot, Error could see that his brother was trembling.. With the way that he was pressed against the glitch from behind, Cross could probably _feel_ it. Most likely, that was the reason that his hand came up, covering Geno’s shaky hold on the knife.

“You don’t have to force yourself, Gen.”

“...Gothy likes his hot dogs cut up in little cubes, and Jam loves it when apple slices are cut up into little bunnies. Both only eat sandwiches without crust _and_ cut up into triangles. And I can’t do _any_ of that for them.” Shuddering, Geno grit his teeth and tightened his grip on the small paring knife he held. It didn’t stop him from shaking. “I… I never used to be afraid of knives, Cross. I- I was _wary,_ yeah, but just having the dumb pink ones Reaper bought me helped ease what little fear was there. Now though? I… it’s so damn hard to even be in the kitchen with them. I can’t c-cook with them and I- I can’t even stand the way this one feels in my hand.”

_Geno…_ Cross and Error shared a look, both pained.

“B-but… but I’m still holding t-this stupid thing, and- and I haven’t been able to do that in _weeks._ M-months if you count…” Swallowing thickly, the glitch leaned back against Cross. Maybe it was the way their first ‘training’ session went well so well, or maybe Cross was just that damn comforting. Either way, Error could _see_ the way that tension left his brother’s posture. It wasn’t all gone, but it was a big enough difference for him to notice. “I just want to feel n-normal again, Cross… I want to- to… Earlier today, you said that I did good today. I want to do just a bit… _better.”_

“...I’ll help you through cutting the dough for the pie, and then no more for today, okay?” Whatever Cross added after that statement was too low for Error to hear, but it made Geno relax the slightest bit more. “Cool, so… here. We’re just going to start on this end, and….”

Starting to feel uneasy, Error leaned forward a bit to get a better look, though that wasn’t saying much with his eyesight. Still, he was able to make out Cross guiding Geno’s hand up and then, slowly, they both began to drag the knife down in a single, fluid line— 

And then Geno was dropping the knife and teleporting away, seeking safety as his panic flared. Upstairs, a door slammed shut.

“...Fuck,” Cross sighed, shoulders slumping and expression pitiful. “I knew he was pushing it. I- I _knew,_ but I still-”

“Let the idiot make his own decisions concerning his _own_ damn phobia. Maybe not the best decision, but… you still gave him the choice to decide what _he_ wanted to do.” Error paused when he caught the slightest sound of footsteps. Reaper didn’t walk much, and Dream was trying to give Geno space. That left Ink, or… ah, that was Spright’s voice. Good, Geno could use their younger brother right now. “Don’t beat yourself up over trying to give him what he needs, rookie.”

“I don’t really know what he needs, teach. I just… kind of guessing as I go along. I mean, we talked a bit, but-”

“No buts, fucker. You’re doing a good job at being a good boyfriend, so leave it at that.” Smirking at Cross’ flush, Error chuckled and stepped up to peer at the incomplete strip of dough Geno was trying to cut. “You two were making pie? The fuck are you cutting the dough for?”

“For a lattice. We’ve already done a bunch of them, but we ran out of dough and had to make more so we could do _more_ lattices.” At Error’s expression, Cross raised a brow. “You know… a pie lattice? The… criss-crossing strips on a pie?”

“Is it edible?”

“Yeah…? Teach, it’s _pie._ Of course it’s edible!”

“Then that’s all I give a shit about.” Grabbing the knife that Geno couldn’t help but abandon, Error made quick work of finishing the job. “Show me what’s next?”

“Uh, I think that I’ll just put everything in the fridge and wait until Geno… feels better. He was really looking forward to making this.”

Error blinked. “Okay.” He said simply, confused at the sudden pain in his chest. No, not just his chest. It… it was his stomach too. He felt.. Twisted up inside, and bitter, and-

Suddenly, the destroyer realized just what he was feeling and felt himself becoming overwhelmed by an intense sensation of shame _._

He was _jealous._

Just thinking the word left a nasty taste in his mouth, but another layer of bitterness settled over his tongues when he found that he really couldn't deny the way it fit. Sure, Error was happy that Cross and Geno were clearly getting along—it was obvious that they both needed the companionship, for different reasons— but he was definitely jealous too. Worse, he was jealous of _Geno,_ and that… fuck, that made him feel extra shitty. He _knew_ that Cross was good at this helping shit, even if the guard didn’t think so. And he knew that Cross made Geno feel protected against Negativity, too. Even if that wasn’t the case, it wasn’t like he expected Cross to never make nice with the others when they were _all_ trying to date the rookie. Error had no reason to be jealous.

But he _was,_ because Cross may have been all of theirs now by his own decision, but- he… he was…

_“You’re_ **_mine,_ ** _Error,” Nightmare hissed. “Your body, your heart… everything from your smiles to your soul is mine.” Sneering, Nightmare settled between his legs and—_

And suddenly Error could see himself in that possessive green gaze from the past. The constant jealousy, the foul possessiveness that became more and more oppressive the longer his interactions with Ink became…

Feeling the itch settling in his fingertips, Error spun on his heels and went to leave the kitchen. Just before he could however, Spright stepped into the doorway with a wide, proud grin and a teary eyed glitch behind him.

“Heya, brah,” the once-parasitic skeleton greeted. 

If he wasn’t as close as he was, then Error might have missed the quick flicker of the text on Spright’s glasses. It was just a second, but the usual “YOLO” had shifted to “U-OKAY?”

Hands in his pockets, Error forced himself to lie with a nod.

Spright’s grin tensed a bit, but he returned Error’s nod with one of his own. “So, here’s the dealio, brah. _Cross,”_ he included, coldly. “Our rad lil bro here—”

“I’m _o-older_ than you, Spright!”

“—had a moment of some _totally_ uncool head stuff. I ain’t gonna give ya the whole 411 right now, but G wants to finish the grub.”

“...If that’s okay?” Geno added, glancing at Cross hesitantly.

Objectively, Error knew that Geno could be considered cute. Reaper sure as hell said so all the damn time. It was the short height paired with the soft, comfortable clothes Geno preferred and the constant air of misery that made you want to protect the poor fucker. So… yeah. Geno was cute.

And Error knew that Cross had a weakness for cute shit. It was a love that nearly rivaled his obsession with big swords and running with arms behind his back. It was also supposed to be secret, but Error knew a lot of the ones that Cross had.

Sure enough, the light fluster from Error’s boyfriend comment darkened considerably, and Cross nodded rapidly. “Y-yeah! I, uh, I was gonna put everything away for now, but I didn’t start yet, so…”

“O-oh, I… um, that’s… good?” Geno’s uncertainty was obvious, but he still managed a smile in Cross’ direction.

Cross smiled back.

“...e _verything from your smiles to your soul is mine.”_

Realizing that Spright was leaving the kitchen now that Geno was in good hands, Error panicked. He felt- stupid and bitter and _ill._ Needing a breather, he went to follow after his youngest brother, but Cross’ voice stopped him.

"Teach? Ya wanna join us? I think you'll have better luck getting the lattice on this pie than Geno I had earlier.”

_I’m not good for you right now. I’m not good! I… I’m…_

Selfish.

With a jerky, silent nod, he turned from the doorway and returned to the counter, followed by Geno. 

“Okay, so you and I have already been through this earlier, but here’s what we did with these strips of dough, Error…”

Without uttering a word, he followed Cross' instructions to put the final touches of a small pie together, before they set it into the oven alongside one finished up by Geno and another that Cross himself completed. More help included gathering the dishes for the table and getting that set, then helping Geno juice up the fruits the glitch and guard didn’t use for pie filling to make fresh juice for the kids. It was... strangely peaceful. 

Yet Error couldn't get himself to stay calm. 

_Something's going to go wrong._ He silently panicked. _I'm going to end up like Negativity. Worse, I..._ His thoughts spiraled, looking for something to distract him from his stupid jealously and stupid guilt. _I’m going to wake up._ He poured the first few glasses. _Negativity Is still here._ Another cup of juice poured and set aside. _We never escaped._ He paused with the juicer lip just over the cup. .

_Oh gods... we never escaped._

Cross glanced over to him. "....Teach?"

Error cleared his throat, only to curse when his words left him with traces of a telling stutter. "Y... yeah?" he questioned, eyes on the glass before him as he forced his hands to steady. _Don't be anymore obvious than you already are. Just... pour the juice, and carry on with your damn day._

He nearly dropped the juicer when a hand lightly settled over his own. "Teach," Cross repeated, voice softening to a gentle whisper. Part of Error bristled, knowing damn well that was the tone the other skeleton often used when he was walking on eggshells—or talking to _Geno._ Still, some part of him liked it.. "Want to see the pancakes Geno and I made earlier? The, uh, kids asked for breakfast for dinner."

That... wasn't what he was expecting. Error was ready for- for attempts at prying into his thoughts, or- or something that wasn't- "What?"

"C-Cross...!" Looking embarrassed, Geno glanced between the guard and his brother. "I told you those were going in the trash!"

"We shouldn't waste food, Geno. And they look fine."

_"Yours_ look fine!"

Cross smiled at him. Error hated it. He hated that he hated it. "Yours are just fine too, Geno. If you want, we can hide them under mine?" 

Again, all Error could do was stare at them. At that... that smile that- gods, that was- 

"Dumb." 

With a blink, Cross glanced to Error. "What?" 

It took a split second for Error to realize what he'd just said. "Dumb to hide Geno's pancakes under yours! PJ eats them one at a time." _I totally didn't just call your stupid smile dumb because I was thinking about how dumb it was that I've never seen it so carefree... nope, not at all..._

Cross raised a brow, questioning, and... gods, Error hated just how much that simple look made him want to squirm, like he was some sort of kid trying to hide the fact that he broke a base or some shit. _How... how do you always look right through me...?_ Even back way back then, Cross…

_"I know you, Error,” the younger skeleton murmured. "You can lie all you want, but... you're not okay. And you- you don't have to be okay, either. Not right now... not if it's too hard to try..."_

"Maybe we can put them face down? If no one flips them around, they won't realize that they're supposed to actually look like something?" Cross suggested instead. That sharp gaze never left Error's expression though. "What do you think, Teach? Is that a better plan?"

"...Tear them into bite-sized pieces?" _Stop looking at me like that. Stop... stop prying my secrets from me with that damn knowing gaze...!_ He didn’t want Cross to see the fear, or the bitter jealously. He didn’t want Cross to see the monster Error knew he could become. "Y-you- you can pass them off a-as... as finger-food or... something?"

"...Error?" Now Geno was concerned, too. Fuck, how did he forget that the glitch was more observant than he let on? More so than usual, actually. With his newfound paranoia, his brother was even better at picking up on whatever oddities they presented. Stupid of Error to think that Geno’s small episode would change that."Are you o-"

“I’m f… fi… fine…!” Error snapped, the impact taken away by the struggle he faced just to get the words out. “I… I’m fi—ine.”

“Error?” Cross stepped forward, hesitantly reaching out—

This time, Error was the one who fled his fears.


	31. Swapping Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which stories are swapped!

Stretch may have been older, but Blue was, without a doubt, the true king of the house. That is, Blue was the one who _really_ decided how things went down within the walls of their home, mostly because he was the only one who actually contributed his time to it. Blue kept the place clean where Stretch usually couldn’t be bothered, ensured that bills got paid when Stretch couldn’t muster up the energy to care, and… well, Blue really did do pretty much everything. And maybe that made Stretch a piece of shit for failing to contribute, but… well, he put his limited energy elsewhere, and Blue knew that... _now._

So, while his younger brother kept up the fort back home, Stretch did what _he_ deemed as important work away: He ensured that Blue everyone remained safe from any outside, or inside, threats that wanted to do them harm.

Which was why he had a screeching, glitching world destroyer face first on the floor, a slipper-clad foot applying just enough pressure to keep the threat down.

 _Weird…_ He couldn’t help but think, gazing down at Error’s struggling form as he took a lazy drag from his cigarette. _Usually, he teleports away by now._ His own pride kept him from admitting Stretch most often couldn’t even land a hit.

With a shrug, he applied more pressure. “You’re not welcome around my little brother, destroyer.” Not after last time—after _months_ of worry and dreary hopelessness as he lost faith that Blue would ever return home. 

He was making a gods-awful lot of noise for someone not putting too much of a fight. Very strange… but perhaps something that would be helpful. “Did ya hear me?” 

“L-l-let g-GO-!” Error snarled, going limp as glitches completely covered his form. 

“The fuck…?” Stretch stared at him for several long minutes. The mess was concentrated just about where his slipper was, but… _No way… This is a trap…_ Stretch didn’t move. 

When he came too, the glitches were almost worse, and the scream was much more feral: _“BLUE!!!”_

“You are _not_ calling out for my brother, dammit-” 

Clearly, the creature couldn’t hear, because that was all he was yelling now, until he passed out again, trembling harder than before. 

Uneasy now, Stretch scowled and finished off his cigarette. _Why is he here…? What is he planning? Why the fuck does he want my brother?_ Scoffing to himself, he vowed silently, _I will kill you if you open a portal near him, asshole._

And something told him Error would just keep screaming for Blue… 

With the longest sigh of annoyance Stretch thought he’d ever made thus far, he opened up his phone and shot Blue a message: “Any… idea… y… error… might… want… 2… c… u…?” he murmured to himself as he typed. “Aaaand, sent.” 

The message came instantly: What did you do?

“What? Why does he think _I_ did something?” When the screaming abruptly began yet again, Stretch startled. Unfortunately—for Error, not him—his surprise resulted in him wobbling, which meant that he applied more pressure on the asshole’s head when he shifted to account for his brief moment of surprise. “...Oops.”

He waited until the screaming cut off before texting Blue back.

“Y… do u… think-”

A hand clamped down on his shoulder. There were a few people tall enough to manage that, but the touch wasn’t fiery enough to be Grillby’s, and the hand wasn’t fluffy enough to be any of the other individuals he thought to name. Not just that, but… 

The hand tightened, the creak of his shoulder muffled slightly by the orange cloth keeping bone from bone.

“Been a while, Stretch. Mind letting my husband go?”

Their gazes met, and Stretch… couldn’t exactly remember stepping off the Destroyer. He watched Ink pull the other into his arms, checking him over gingerly and standing, all while the Papyrus pulled another cigarette out and lit it. “So, you’re fetching-” 

“I promise you, whatever you’re about to say next will deserve that cigarette shoved in your socket.” 

“Nyeh, is that how Stars talk nowadays? See, I coulda sworn I saw you or Dream the other day helpin’ one’a Muffet’s elderly guests cross the street.” 

Ink hid his confusion well behind a look of annoyance. “Error is upset, and he came to speak to Blue. And here _you_ are, shoving his face in the dirt.” 

Smoke blew his way. “He coulda been eating my shoe instead.” 

_“Or,”_ Ink stepped by and leaned in, “You could learn a thing or two about hospitality from your _dear_ baby brother.” 

Stretch glared after him and followed. “You’re not going to my house.” 

“You mean _Blue’s_ house? Don’t stop me.” 

With a growl, Stretch stalked after Ink, intending to-

The last thing he saw was a dizzying, crimson stare before he fell back against the snow.

———

Hearing a knock on the door, Blue sighed. Oh, there was a hopeful little part of him that suggested it could be a very pleasant surprise visit from someone special, but he knew better. Lust always, always asked before showing up whereas Stretch had the tendency to knock whenever he stepped out “just for a bit,” forgetting all about his teleportation abilities after a few sips of amber liquid over at Muffet’s.

 _Papy…_ Blue loved his brother. Where there used to be annoyance at things like this, there was now just concern, and sorrow. _I wish I knew how to help you… I wish I could promise that the human would stop…_ but he didn’t know, nor could he make such promises.

So, he put on a smile and opened the door. “Welcome back, Pap- Ink? What- oh- _Error!”_

“Heya Blue!” Ink grinned widely. It was a happy look, but the reds filling his gaze spoke of the lies in the friendly warmth. The artist was _pissed_ right now, and Blue was already starting to feel uneasy. “Mind if we come in?”

“...I am _so sorry,_ Ink.” Stepping aside, the shorter Star motioned for the taller skeleton to step in. “I- I know Papy can be cranky, but he’s been… taking things hard since the last reset. I think he was starting to hope again that the human wouldn’t-”

“Not to be an ass, but explain later, okay? I’ll fix it. I just… Can I tuck him in your bed? He was upset when he left, so I don’t want to take him back home until I figure out _why.”_

“O-oh! Of… of course!” Blue hurried out of the way and shut the door behind him, not before glancing out, expecting Stretch to saunter up with a quickly hidden cigarette. No such luck, so Blue trailed after the couple, fiddling with his own hands. “Do you know why he came here?” 

“No,” Ink admitted with a small frown. “I was expecting to find him in Outertale, not Swap…” 

Blue became arguably more uneasy as he tried to think about why Error would- _oh…_ It’s because they were friends, right…? Blue kept pushing for them to be friends, despite the whole kidnapping incident, since it was clear Error just needed someone to talk to but… _does he really see us as friends…?_ Blue wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. _Does Ink know about Lust…? Did Error tell him…?_

Ink kept an eye on Blue’s uncovered storm of anxiety with his own growing tension. “Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“Oh yeah!” Blue chirped up, a huge smile in place. “I’ll go make us some tea while we wait for Error to wake up, yeah? And I have some treats to put out for us too, if you want?” 

“That sounds good, thank you.” Ink watched Blue practically bolt out of the room to the kitchen, frown growing a little more. _Did something happen when he was watching the screens…?_ Just what did Ink miss? 

Apparently a lot, if Error crashed in Stretch’s presence.

Unbidden, a bolt of anger pierced his very soul. _I really need to talk to Blue about his brother,_ Ink thought, his steps slow as he climbed the stairs to the younger Star’s room. _I’m willing to adjust the code here,_ now that he mostly remembered how, _but…_ His actions would be for Blue’s sake, not Stretch’s, who would simply reap the benefits of the bright-eyed skeleton’s good standing with Ink. _I know he’s had it rough, but Error wasn’t even attacking! ...I think. Heck, he hasn’t even attempted to kidnap Blue since before…_ The castle.

Sighing heavily, the artist nudged Blue’s bedroom door open with his foot and crept inside. He knew that Error hated the childish look of the chipper Sans’ bedroom, but waking up in a bed would be nicer for the destroyer. After a crash, Error needed comfort. Safety. And so, Ink gently went about tucking his unconscious husband in amongst starry bedding and plush, fluffy pillows.

“There you go…” Carefully, he swiped a bit of dirt off of Error’s cheek. _He must have been applying a lot of pressure if you managed to reach the dirt with all that snow around…_

Unintentionally, the thought fed the boiling rage within him.

And as a consequence, a foul strand of magic concealed in his very soul stirred, prodding at him from within with an inquiry dripping with foul intention. Firmly, Ink concealed himself from _that_ particular bond, but he knew it wouldn’t hold for long. With his memories back, he found himself constantly fighting with _more_ than a century’s worth of reawakened habits. Leaving his every emotion—every bit of his entire _being_ —open to Negativity was merely a single example, but it was one of the more dangerous instincts he couldn’t seem to kick. But he had to try. No, he had to _succeed,_ because leaving himself open to that- that-

_“...I love you, Neggy.” Cree whispered, uncertain if the words he spoke were still a lie._

-that _asshole_ was unacceptable. More than that, it was risky, especially with everything he had to lose should Negativity find his way into their home… again.

“I can’t let him back in…” Cree- Ink whispered, his gazing at Error with unseeing eyes. Every blink sent him further into the past, into different snapshots of a life that felt so alien—unreal. “I… I won’t let him back in…”

_“You’ll love me, Cree. I’ll make sure of it.”_

There was a whimper. For a second, Cree thought it was his own pitiful fear making itself known, but then the noise came again… from _Error._

Not for the first time, Ink found himself grateful that empathy was such a rare gift. Error wouldn’t be privy to the terrible and confusing disarray of feelings Ink still held for their shared abuser. He wouldn’t have a front row seat to Ink’s struggle with the feeling he wasn’t sure was true. The one that was still directed towards Negativity… the Neggy that _nobody_ would know anymore. It was wrong and unfair and about a dozen other things that just made the experience even worse. “I’m right here, Ru…” he whispered. “I’m right here…” 

Unfortunately, not for the first time, Cree couldn’t stop himself from wallowing in the why. Why did Neggy have to change…? Why couldn’t he have been happy the first time around? Why did all of this have to happen like this…? 

If it weren’t for the fact that Cree was the one who created this whole damned clusterfuck, he probably would’ve wondered if maybe there was some point to it all. Maybe there were other gods in other places that crafted everything and everyone with set purposes in mind, but Cree had been so caught up in the ecstasy of creation that he never really thought of the everlasting questions or experiences or... _anything_ really. 

_Why…?_

“...nk?” 

The artist shoved all that shit away and peered down worriedly at Error. “I’m right here Ru…! You’re in Blue’s bed right now-” 

A long groan was his response. “Ain’t pink…?” 

“Nah, it’s stars right now.” 

“....pink stars?” 

“Nope.” 

Error seemed somewhat pleased by that, though he didn’t meet Ink’s gaze. “I… wanna talk to him…” because he wasn’t asking, but he was too tired to demand for it to happen. 

“I…” Ink faltered for a moment, almost… _insecure._ “It wasn’t the flowers, was it…? I swear I‘ll take them all-” 

“Squid,” Error sighed. “Blue, please?” 

If it hadn’t been for that cute nickname, maybe Ink would’ve tried to stay and talk still, but… _it’s gonna be okay._ He exhaled and put on a bright, brave smile. “Sure. I’ll go grab him for ya.” 

Error’s response was a weak groan as he rolled over, sighing heavily while shoving his face into Blue’s fluffiest pillow. _Smells nice…_ Which was probably a weird thing to think, but it was true. Blue’s room smelled faintly of cleaning chemicals and artificial fruit and-

_What was that…?_

Blindly, he shoved his hand under the pillow, feeling around for whatever was making the fluffy pillow so lumpy. Not finding any objects, he tried reaching into the pillowcase itself and- there. What was…?

And suddenly, just as his hand curled around the object, Error realized that he knew that shape. Oh fuck, he _knew that shape!_ And it was- _why the fuck did Blue have a-_ oh fuck, did that mean- 

Blanching, he quickly withdrew his hand with a shudder. Blue—sweet, kind Blueberry—had a… a…

And Error was on the same bed the… _thing_ was probably used on. Oh fuck-! That meant that- _ugh!_ If Blue had… one of _those,_ then… Fuck, Error could very well be relaxing on _jizz…!_

When Ink returned with Blue, it was to the sight of Error tripping out of the bed with a look of sheer panic smeared across his face. With a loud thud, the destroyer hit the floor but it didn’t stop him from scrambling back, turning as he did to face the bed and-

“E-Error my bed-!”

They heard an angry curse just before the portal closed, leaving behind a newly cleared out portion of Blue’s room.

“I’m not apologizing,” Error rasped, brushing his clothes off roughly. _Ew, fuck, ewewewew…!_

Blue shoved his fists onto his hips and glared haughtily at him. “You better replace my bed, then!” he demanded. 

The destroyer stared back at him. “...Why?” 

Amused, albeit a little confused, Ink forced a smile and said, ”Was there a scorpion or something…?” 

The glance between Error and Blue was a resounding _‘No’_ in Ink’s mind, though Error merely shoved at his clothes and scowled, “Sure.” 

The three of them stood there, quietly watching each other for a minute before Error cleared his throat and awkwardly said, “Mind if… just Blue and I...?” Though he wasn’t all that excited to be alone with Blue now. The shorter skeleton was supposed to be- be all cute and innocent and shit! But now Error had to live with the knowledge that the fucker did… fucking things! “I came here to talk to him.” 

_And not you,_ Ink heard, though Error didn’t quite intend to send that message.

Trying to make sure that Error didn’t see the way that hurt him, Ink grinned and nodded. “Sure!” and just because he totally wasn’t thinking about it, he joked, “Guess I don’t have to worry about the bed then huh?” But of course, that came out wrong, so Ink escaped and made his way downstairs to the promised treats. 

Even with the door clicking softly shut at his departure, Error still flinched. Whatever made him decide to go about trashing Blue’s bed must have been failing as a distraction now that it was gone, because the destroyer was starting to look… nervous. Unsure of himself, too. He wasn’t talking though, so Blue figured a little nudge would help things along. 

“...So… uh, is everything…okay...?” Blue tried, wincing soon after. Clearly, it wasn’t because why else would Error be trying to talk to Blue alone in his own house? Stars, this was his first time seeing Error since- well, since a lot of stuff went down, and here he was poking at obvious wounds. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer-” 

“Do you ever get jealous?” Error blurted, his sockets squeezed shut as if he were charging into a battle he didn’t want to face.. 

“...Jealous…?” 

“I mean… you…” 

“I…?”

The thought of Blue dating someone didn’t feel all that right to Error. Blue was… something. He wasn’t quite like Spright and Geno—a brother—but he wasn’t like Ink or the others, either. There wasn’t love there, just… an affection, kind of. Friendship, he might have said if the word didn’t feel so alien to him. Still, he looked so… sweet, which made the thought of him dating feel off. And yet, that thing had been hidden away in his pillow, so… 

“Are you…” Error cringed. “...d-dating anyone?” Flustering at the look Blue shot his way, the destroyer scowled. “S-shut up, berry. I- _that wasn’t me trying to come onto you, damnit!”_

“O-oh!” Blue forced a chuckle and shook his head, fond. He was… really starting to remember just how _fun_ Error could be, in his own way. _Well… maybe fun isn’t the right word..._ Awkward, kind of. Error had a lot of faults—and Blue was still quite hung up over the kidnapping from so long ago—but… some of them were pretty humanizing. It made interacting with the destroyer easier than Blue often expected, even back when he was a prisoner. “Dream hasn’t mentioned something? Funny, I thought he would have shared the gossip, since he…” Blue giggled awkwardly. “A-anyways! Yes, Error, I’m seeing someone. It’s almost been a year, actually!”

“Oh…” Yeah, even though he was prepared for the answer, Error still shuddered. Blue dating was- was really, _really_ fucking wrong. “And… and you get… jealous right?” _It’s normal. It- it has to be normal-_

“Why would I be jealous…?” 

Blue’s genuine confusion killed off Error’s comforting mantra right then and there. _Of course it isn’t fucking normal._ Error hunched over himself and tugged some strings from his sockets, fiddling with them for a moment as he tried to think, still hopeful to find some sort of common ground here. Blue was- Blue was just plain good. If he could feel jealousy too, then… then maybe Error didn’t have to be so damn afraid of his own. Blue was nothing like Nightmare, after all.“I mean… unless the guy is pathetic, then… you probably weren’t his first, right…? Doesn’t that bother you…?” Anxiety flared. “What if he leaves you…? Or…” now, his voice was nearly inaudible, “you realize that you’re not good enough anymore…?” 

The smallest part of Blue wanted to start considering that, but he shook his head, “Nope!” he smiled. “We talk all the time. I… it’s much too soon, I know, but… I’m even considering…” Unable to help himself, Blue squirmed in place with a cheery little giggle. “I’m just… really, really happy with him, Error.”” 

“Congratulations,” Error murmured. It surprised himself how much he truly meant it. “Do… you guys... talk?” 

Blue giggled nervously, “Yeah? Aren’t couples supposed to talk?” A blink later and Blue softened. He didn’t presume to know exactly how Ink and Dream went about things, but… “There’s more to a relationship than just sex, Error. They can be sexual, romantic, _and_ platonic… all at once, even!” 

“I _know_ that, ass!” Nearly hesitantly, Error double-checked, “But… you guys talk and there’s no jealousy?” 

“I may not be his first, but he ain’t mine either.” 

_Oh my fuck someone fucked Blueberry…!_ Well, he could guess as much given the whole relationship thing, but he didn’t know that someone fucked Blue _before…_ whoever the hell it was that he was dating. Oh fuck. _Fuck._ That meant that Blue had… _experience._ Ew. Ew, shit, fuck-! He was _thinking_ about it now and- and Blue was probably a kinky little- _Stopstopstopstop…!_

“Who the hell have you been fucking?!” he blurted, and that was most definitely _not_ what he wanted to fucking ask, shit.

Blue shot him an unimpressed look. “Really, Error? Why in the world would you want to know that?”

“I don’t!” ...And yet, the morbid curiosity was still there. “It was Red, wasn’t it?”

Blue shuddered. “Red is just a _friend._ Besides, I knew that Sci had a crush on him, and…” Again, the smaller Sans shuddered, this time out of fear. “Sci is super nice in a very Sci way, but… Well, I don’t want to be rude.”

“Fuck that, be rude. I want to know.”

“...But he can be pretty scary when you get in the way of his, uh, _hypotheses._ And Sci had one that Red wanted to ‘bone’ him that he was _very_ interested in testing out.” Blue still had nightmares sometimes about pissing off the scientific Sans. Honestly, the only thing scarier than that scenario that he could think of was…

A chill went down his back, and Blue, as discreetly as possible, slid a hand over his stomach.

 _I- I don’t want to think about that…_ so he put on a brighter smile and gave Error a teasing look. “You know, Error, you’re oddly interested in my sex life. Are you guys taking more applications?”

“Applications…?” When he realized what Blue was hinting at, Error scowled. “Fuck off, Bluebrat. We’re closed, damnit. Forever. I can’t handle anymore fucking idiots.”

“You can’t handle fucking anymore idiots?” Blue giggled.

 _Oh fuck he swore that’s weird as shit._ “Can we just get back to my fuc- damn question? ...Pl...please…” he added, the quiet plea a meek thing. “I just… You don’t have entirely shitty taste, so… whoever you’re… _with_ is…” he cringed, “...attractive, probably. And- and people probably notice and shit. He- he’s… hot, and…”

_“Teach!” Cross nearly squealed, the laughter in his voice making his eyelights glimmer with the same amusement he shook with. “I- I can’t believe you did that! Oh my-” He snorted, then doubled over with a cackle. “S-Stars, Error!”_

“...and funny… sweet, too…. But other people notice.” 

_Cross at Geno’s back, his hand over the glitch’s and tone gentle. Softer than even that, his eyes that watched the smaller skeleton warmly. There was fondness there, Error knew. He was happy for it, but- fuck, it made his stomach twist._

“How do you handle that? I- you don’t want to be jealous, y-yeah? Because that’s-”

_“You’re mine,” Nightmare hissed._

Error blinked.

_“My loyal little destroyer… gone astray.” The sharpened end of a tendril pressed into ecto, carving the first of many letters into Error’s back. “I’ll remind you of your loyalty, Error. I’ll remind you of the one you love.”_

He blinked again, and the scene changed once more. _“Mine.”_ Again. _“My darling little Ruru,” said mockingly._ Again. _“My lover.”_ Again and again and _again and againagainagainagainagain-!_

There was always possessiveness in Nightmare’s voice. There was always jealousy, and Error… Error was terrified. _I don’t want to be like him._

Blue knew this wasn’t Error being jealous of his own boyfriend or of Blue himself. He almost wanted to tease his friend, but… he didn’t like that empty gaze in Error’s eyes. Stars, he hated how small the destroyer could get when he- well, this was really the first time Blue saw Error ever _willingly_ let himself look so open. 

_But that’s not really true, is it…?_

Sometimes, Error used to let his guard down in anti-void. Not enough for Blue to risk attempting an escape, but… there were moments where he got a glimpse of the destroyer looking so… small. Lost, in a way.  
_“...Hey, abomination…” Error called out, gaze firmly on the doll he was crafting. It looked familiar, like… a little Ink! “...Is… that artist friend of yours… the idiot?”_

_“...What about him?”_

_Practiced motions stilled. “...Nothing…” The destroyer mumbled, fingers twitching as he ran a finger over the doll’s face. “Try not to be a little bitch while I’m gone.”_

_“You’re going?” Blue always thought that Error lived here, but he was quickly proved wrong the first day of his capture. The destroyer hung around to watch him for a bit, then promptly announced that he was going home. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me go, too? Home…? Or at least wherever you’re heading off too?”_

_Shoulders curled, and Blue faltered at just how… how tiny the taller skeleton suddenly looked-_

_“You don’t want to go where I’m going.”_

“I can only really tell you what my boyfriend and I talked about…” Blue smiled apologetically at Error. _Someone like you shouldn’t ever look so… defeated._ It made him want to help; both as a Star, and as a friend. “Maybe it can help you? To hear it from a different perspective?” 

Error made himself comfortable on the floor, leaning against the wall. He pulled more strings from his gaze and watched Blue make himself comfy in the only chair in his room. It almost made Blue giggle at how very teacher-student this seemed to be, but the topic couldn’t bring even a smile to his face. “I was jealous of a lot of his exes. And of… um, we’ll call them his clients! I used to think that they would get to know him so well—better than me. That this amazing and funny guy was known so… intimately by all these people, even though they paid to be serviced by him.”

“You keep saying shit like that. Who is-”

“BUT, one day, here was this thing that happened that I answered the call for. I think it was because Dream was busy and Ink was captured? But… I got to see a side of- um, my boyfriend that nobody ever got to see, and I couldn’t get enough.” Blue chuckled . “I guess I was a little… obsessed? I would call him up and ask if he wanted to go out to do little things. Check on the care center in town, or help donate food to his neighbors. I would bring sweets and we would pass them out to everyone. It… it made people happy, and it made me feel happier to help. 

“But I wasn’t really _happy_ -happy, because he was still receiving clients and I didn’t feel worthy and… well, one day I called him up and asked if I could pay for his services.” 

“That was pretty bold of you...” Error mumbled, trying not to consider what those services were. _Maybe he’s dating a maid…? Fuck, everyone knows his brother doesn’t do shit around here._

“It was even more bold for him to deny that request.” 

Error’s jaw dropped. “He _what?”_ Error would never ever ever admit it, but his respect for the mystery fucker shot up with that sheepish admission. 

“Yeah. We got into a huge fight about it. ‘Why won’t you accept my money, but you’ll accept strangers' money?’ Honestly, I was arguing much more than I thought I would’ve from such a denial, but he finally stopped me and quietly said, ‘You know, I’m jealous that I didn’t get to live life like you have.’ And that… well, it felt really random. It… it felt like he was trying to distract me, and in a really poor way, too. I mean… everyone babies me, you know? I’m not dumb, and I know that most consider me one of the more innocent Sans-types out there. All I could think was, ‘Wow, that’s a really shitty deflection’ because… well, what’s there to be jealous of? But… but he said...” 

_“No…” His tone gave Blue pause. “You never had to chose to have sex with someone or let them fuck your little brother. You’ve kept this positive attitude about everything, nearly all the time, and you can actually afford to do that. I play the role I was given. I take the money and I play pretend for a night and I protect my brother and his boyfriend until the next day, where I have to do it over again. And some nights, it’s genuinely fun, sure. But mostly, it’s the cheaters and the gangbangers that visit with me. But you… you don’t have to. Listen, Blue, I like you. And I thought you liked me too, but… if you want to have sex with me, it needs to be because you like **me** , not because you’re jealous of my clients.”_

“And that changed it for us—for the better. Gods we spent _hours_ that night just talking about boundaries and jobs and…” blushing, Blue grinned a little. “We were able to get him managing the place so he wouldn’t have to take clients. Not just to settle my stupid jealousy, but for his own benefit. And you know what? The crime has been dropping pretty rapidly, and- and things are even getting… better. Brighter. Because him realizing that he could take control of his own life has been affecting others, too! And it's… Stars, it’s so amazing. He’s amazing, and… and maybe I wouldn’t get to see that up close if we never had that talk. Heh, I… I guess that, sometimes, a little jealousy can be good… if you handle it well?” 

Error heard everything Blue said, but was still stuck on someone actually denying Blue… well, anything. I don’t know if I should fuck the guy up, or shake his hand… but… Berry is happy… 

“So… just… talking…?” _That’ll make it go away? I… I just talk and all this bullshit goes poof?_

“It can be a little hard to start,” Blue admitted, “But I think you’ll find what you and your husbands and boyfriend will need from each other much faster that way. Especially since there’s so many of you and you all…” expression falling, he murmured, “Gods, Error, I…” 

Panic flaring, Error hissed out a glitching denial. He didn’t like where the conversation was going. “H-how dO I-” _Breathe, don’t fight the damn stutters, or the glitches. It only makes it harder._ “...H… how do I… start? Talking?”

Smiling apologetically for his overstepping, Blue glanced at his door. “Well… Ink is already here, right? Why don’t you try talking to him?”  
“He isn’t…” Error paused. Ink wasn’t the person that set off Error’s sudden bout of jealousy, but the artist wasn’t excluded from this, was he? No, before their capture, there was his jealousy involving Dream. They… _kind_ of got through that, but the whole primordial bullshit got thrown at them before they could even settle in with the guard- creature of positivity. Now, there was new bullshit to work through. _But… but I’m not jealous…_

A traitorous little voice nagged at him, murmuring, _But maybe you should be? All that history… and those years alone together…_ Error swallowed thickly, dropping his gaze. When he caught a glimpse of gold, he flinched. 

He was so caught up in this new romance with Cross that he forgot Ink’s thing with Dream _wasn’t_ new. _They… they probably fucked, huh? And Dream is… nice. Pretty._ He was… so much _more_ than Error ever realized.

From what he understood, Dream was everything Ink ever wanted in someone. The artist brought him into existence, didn’t he? Reaper liked to joke that Dream was their dream man, but- but that was actually true for Ink, wasn’t it? Dream was a fantasy brought to life, and Error-

Error was just... Error. Just _an_ error—a mistake.

“Error…?” Blue tried, calling the destroyer’s name for the third time, not that the other skeleton seemed to notice. The clawed hands of anxiety and paranoia were outstretched, reaching for this new realization with fanged grins. It left the destroyer trembling, and the sight was worrying Blue. “Error, should I get Ink? Error? _Error!”_

In the castle, Cross was limited when it came to people to interact with. Nightmare’s time was a blessing back then, and Horror was always off in his own little world with Killer during their free time. Cross… Cross just had Error, that’s it. But it wasn’t like that anymore, huh? There was Reaper, and Dream, and Ink, and- and _Geno._ Geno who could be just as rough as Error, but who had more patience and who was short and cute. Cross loved cute shit, almost as much as he loved big ass swords.

Cross had other options now. _Good_ options. He didn’t need to settle for Error, just like Ink didn’t, now that he had his _real_ first around. Both of them… _both of them…_

Blue ran for Ink when the first tear fell.


	32. A Long Due Conversa-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ink and Error sit down to talk.

Ink was hot on Blue's heels, abandoning the drink he wanted. "Ru…?" Ink called, freezing at the tears. "Blue, what did you do??" 

"Nothing! I just suggested he talked to you first…?" 

"About what-?" 

"You don't need me…" Error choked out, tears coming faster. 

The statement seemed to come from nowhere, but was concerning all the same. Startled, the eldest Star exchanged glances with the smaller one, whispering something about leaving. Thankfully, Blue respected the request and hurried off, leaving the artist alone with his distraught husband. When the door shut behind him, Ink sat on the bed by Error, though he kept himself from touching the other skeleton when he flinched away and hid his face. "Error…?" 

Somehow, his name alone made the glitch feel worse. _He… he sounds… disappointed._ If he were in a better mindset, Error would have realized that he was wrong. Ink wasn’t disappointed in him for inching away—he was sad. 

"It's pathetic…” Error rasped. _“I'm_ pathetic and you don't need me and _they_ don't-"

"Paperjam needs you. Goth and Reaper and Geno do, too. Cross would be crushed to hear that you think that, and Dream… he needs you too,” _especially now, with him acting so… so strange recently._ Not quite distant, but… off. Sad in a way that Ink didn’t understand and Dream wouldn’t explain. “ _I_ need you, Error. I want you, too. I want you to stay, to be comfortable, to be _safe_ with us, so… please, Fringe. Please… talk to me?" 

Error shook his head, curling forward to hide his face in his knees. He hated this. Fuck, he hated it so much. Why was he crying over this _now?_ They were back home, they were safe, and- and that was just it, wasn’t it? Despite small yet frequent moments of uncertainty, Error knew that they were out. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to stop guessing himself on that fact until the residual fear finally fled, but… but the facts were there: They were out, and they were safe. 

Which meant that nothing was tying them all together anymore. There was no- no common hardship, no need to stick together… all they had was love, but- but what did that matter? Love was- it was-

 _His head is full of cotton but Error feels lighter than air—kind of dreamy. Slowly, thoughts trickle in and out but none of them make much of an impact. There… there’s something wrong with that, but he doesn’t know what. He doesn’t really care because he- he feels good. Empty, but in a pleasant way. It makes him sleepy, but he doesn’t rest even as his blinking slows and his sockets grow lidded. He doesn’t_ want _to sleep, not when there’s such… such vivid eyes in front of him… watching him with the attention he secretly desires. He… he likes that… he likes-_

_Nightmare._

_Nightmare, because that’s who is watching him, Error realizes. The realization takes time, but it brings a drunken smile to his face. Right now, he has all of Nightmare’s attention on him. Right now, he… he’s the very center of all the king’s love…_

Night loves me… _The thought makes him happy. So happy, in fact, that Error’s smile never falls, not even when the other skeleton starts pulling answers from him with a sweet, crooning voice._

_“Who do you love, Error?”_

_“You.”_

_“Hm? Is that so, lover?”_

_“Yeah…”_

_“Tell me then…. Why do you entertain such obvious affections for the artist? Why do you blush and stammer when he calls out to you on the battlefield?” Smiling, Nightmare leaned forward. They were close enough to kiss. “Why is your heart trying to stray when you so_ clearly _desire_ me?”

Error doesn’t remember what he said in response to Nightmare that day. What he _does_ recall however is leaving that meeting with his stupid feelings as stubborn as ever. _Moreso,_ actually. It didn’t matter that Nightmare frequently beat and abused him at that point. No, nothing the king did mattered, because Error’s stupid heart couldn’t let him go, even when his attractions began to shift. It was something that he used to agonize over time and time again. Now, he knew that- that everything was just _bullshit._ It was- magic, or seduction, or maybe even fucking both. It was… artificial, even if it felt so real at the time.

He couldn’t trust his memories, or his own damn feelings. How could Error trust everyone else’s? For all he knew, he was just a shitty replacement for Ink and- and a whim for the others. Worse. Reaper, Dream… they went into this for _Ink._ Error was just… a necessary evil at the time—a stepping stone with a pretty face and squishy body. He wasn’t wanted, just… just accepted because you couldn’t get the _real_ prize without him. He… he was just… just…

 _Used goods._ Flinching at his own thoughts, Error pressed his face against his knees harder and clawed at his head with itching, trembling phalanges. _Everything was fine this morning… everything was good…_ And now he was terrified that none of it was real in the ways that counted. 

All Ink could see was his husband falling further and further into a terrifying void composed of the foulest colors he knew. Hopelessness, depression… and the saddest resignation Ink had ever seen, as if his husband was accepting some terrible fate he always expected to come. He hated it. He… he was _terrified_ of whatever was going through the destroyer’s head, and his own bleaching whites began to creep into his vision. _No… nononono-_

“Error…? Error…!” Gritting his teeth Ink grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “Error!” Once he had the other’s attention, he murmured, “Talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t let me, Ru.” 

Trembling, Error sobbed again and tried to pull away. “You… you all… d-don’t-” 

“...Do you want to divorce us…?”

Bile seared the back of Error’s throat at that- that stupid, _cursed_ word. Divorce. No, Error didn’t want to divorce his husbands. He was- he was… 

“...Oh,” Ink whispered, softening at the truths his husband’s emotions revealed to him. “Ru… _Fringe,_ none of us are going to divorce you. None of us _want_ to divorce you, or break up with you in Dream and Cross’ case. We all care about you, Fringe. We love you.”

“No… n-no… _nonono….”_

 _Fear, disbelief…_ and the saddest glimmer of hope Ink could recall having ever seen, his own included. “We love you, Error, and we’ll continue to do so for as long as you allow.”

“N… nnnot… w… wo….rth…” 

“You are.”

The tears came harder. What was he supposed to say in response to that? What- what _could_ Error say? Ink didn’t understand, damnit. He wasn’t- he didn’t- no one knew the bullshit Nightmare was capable of! No one-

His breath hitched. Maybe Error knew _Nightmare_ and the terror he was capable of, but… but Nightmare wasn’t just Nightmare. No, he was- he was…. More. A lie in more ways than even Error knew. Nightmare was _Negativity…_ and Ink was supposed to know all about him now, wasn’t he?

“...I… I… l… lOveD…” Ashamed, he let his glitching voice fade. Error didn’t want to voice it. He didn’t want to face what always seemed to be the root of every damn problem he had. 

Luckily, or unfortunately, the artist knew the answers to what missing pieces Error left to be filled. “...Yeah, you did, Ru.” And then, before Ink could stop it, the truth broke free. “I… I did too. I remember that now—that… that I… you know.”

Almost uncertain, Error raised his gaze to Ink just as the artist let his shoulders go and offered a hand to him. It took a moment before the Destroyer took that same hand, his erratic phobia leaving him weak against touch. He managed it eventually though, and trembling, tri-colored fingers tangled with Ink’s.

“I used to love him too, only… I loved him too late. Or- or I realized it too late. No, that… that’s not true. I...” His voice got smaller, gaze much too far away now. “I just loved too much. Too _many,_ and I- I couldn’t give him what he wanted. I was too selfish to decide, and I-” Cree laughed, vibrant gaze fuzzy. “This, _all of this_ , is because of me, I think. All of it. Be… because of something I did a long time ago… or rather… because of something I _didn’t_ do...” 

_“...Please…”_

_Often, he finds himself forgetting that Neggy is actually shorter than him. Even though he has to look down for their eyes to meet, Cree always feels like they’re on even ground due to the confidence the other skeleton exudes and the proud, kingly manner that he always held himself with. Negativity’s condescending way of always looking down on others didn’t help things, either. Now though, with all of those factors absent, Neggy looked… small. So very, very small, and as heartbreakingly sorrowful as Posi did whenever he cried, and Cree…_

_Cree didn’t know what to_ do. _He didn’t know how to fix this, though he wanted to. Stars, he really, truly wanted to._

_“Neggy…” he whispered, for a lack of better words. “Neggy, I-”_

_“Please,” came the pitiful interruption. “Please, Cree, I-_ please. _I know you love him. I know you love_ me, _but- but pick. Please just- just_ **pick** , _and I’ll… I’ll accept whatever you choose, I will.”_

_And Cree believed him. He did! But… but what Neggy was asking… what he wanted him to do…_

_“Please, just pick one of us so that this- this_ agony _can fade. Please, Cree, pick- pick-”_

Pick me, _those emerald eyes begged._

_“Pick one of us, please!”_

_“Neggy… I…”_

_Shuddering breaths stilled, Neggy falling silent even as tears continued to trickle down his face. Cree wanted to reach out and wipe them away, so… so he did, and hope blossomed in that pleading gaze._

_“...I can’t choose…”_

_Quick as a whip, Negativity slapped his hand away-_

“...it isn’t just hubris or believing that I’m the center of the multiverse. It’s because I was truly the one responsible for…” he faltered, unable to meet Error’s gaze. “I’m so lucky to have you, Ru,” he said instead, changing the subject and hating himself all the more for it. “You… you let me be selfish, even though it scares you. You let me love you, and Dream, and Reaper, and- and you don’t know how much that means to me, Fringe. You don’t-”

_“If you won’t choose… then…” Neggy tried to chuckle, but all he managed was a hiccuping sob. “...then I’ll choose for you.”_

_“Neggy-”_

_“Be happy with Positivity.” Slowly, painfully, Negativity pieced himself back together enough to stand taller. “I won’t inform him of your infidelity,_ love.”

_“Neggy, please-”_

_“I won’t let the poor f-fool know just how painfully selfish you are, Lord Creativity. I won’t let him know the pain you forced upon me, and be glad for it, because… because it’s awful. This- this pain, this-_ heartbreak, _it’s… it’s... ”_

He’s going to run, _Cree realized._

“...It’s the worst thing I ever felt… the…” Neggy laughed weaky, then whimpered.

I’m going to lose him… _the thought struck hard. Neggy was his first creation. His first… everything._

_“...This is the worst thing you ever created…”_

_Cree stumbled forward desperately, flinching when the other skeleton responded by flailing back. Soul pounding, he shouted “Neggy, I- I cho-” but it was too late._

_Right before his eyes, Neggy vanished, and only the empty field around Cree was left to listen to a choice that came far too late._

“...You gave me so much…” Cree whispered, his hold tight on Error’s hand. “You give me more than I deserve and I- I will _never_ stop loving you for it, nor will I stop loving everything that ever drew you to me. Your personality, your stubborn hope, your- gods, Error. Your _everything. I_ don’t deserve any of it, but I’ll love it all—I’ll love _you—_ for as long as you’ll allow. _”_

 _As long as I’ll allow…?_ Error stared at Ink’s expression and with his limited experience judging proper emotions in others, felt that Ink was sincere in his meaning. “I love you,” Error whispered back, terrified. “I don’t want to d-divorse anyone… I just…” _Talk. Just talk. Just s-speak to him… d-don’t be afraid of him…_

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Error didn’t really want to talk. He _did,_ but he was terrified of the outcome. Of being ridiculed and told that he wasn’t experiencing things right. Worse, he was scared of being taken _seriously._ Which was so strange! The worst thing that would happen, after a confession like that from Ink, would be… well, things would get _better_. So there shouldn’t be a reason to be afraid… right? Right now, there was- there was only one thing to fear, and that was—

“INK!” Blue cried, slamming the door to his own room open with wide, panicked eyes. He was holding his phone at his side, and Ink could see Dream smiling on the screen—an old picture used for a contact photo. “Ink, Error, you two- you guys need to get home, _now.”_

“Wha- Blue, what’s wrong? Is Dream…” 

“Cr- Ink?” Dream called from the phone’s speaker. “It… it’s-”

 _Nightmare?_ Error thought, fearful.

The artist tensed. _Neggy?_

“-Merci. It’s Merci, Ink. She- Stars, please, _come home!_ Geno is panicking and- _Reaps, hurry the fuck up! Wha- what do you mean you can’t find the nebulizer- shit! I-_ Ink, just come home. I need to get her to Sci’s. _Now.”_

“Dream, wait, what’s-”

There was a soft click, then the sound of a dial tone. 


	33. Please, Have Merci

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the poly beg the universe to have mercy on Merci.

Numb, Ink sat still with Error at his side as a somber Cross relayed the story of Merci’s sudden ailment to them. With panic fogging over his thoughts, listening was difficult, but he latched onto every word that reached him through his terror, slowly piecing together the words spoken in Cross’ distance voice until he was able to make sense of it all: 

On a high from the progress he showcased throughout the day—first by working through a yoga routine with Cross, then by managing to both hold  _ and  _ use a knife—Geno made the decision to push his boundaries even further. Cross admitted to having concerns, but confessed that he hadn’t wanted to work against Geno when his eagerness to continue improving seemed so fragile, so he agreed to help him. And when Geno said he wanted to try stepping outside? He didn’t see much wrong with the idea, even if the walls of their home seemed so much safer in comparison to the vast unknown of the outdoors.

“...He told me…” Here, Cross faltered. “He told me that he spent so much of his life wondering what the sky looked like, and that- that he didn’t want the twins to grow up feeling as trapped as he did. Geno… there’s some grass, further away from the house. Geno wanted to prove to himself that he could make it there, and he- he wanted to take the twins with them so that they could see the sky, and feel the grass, and- and play with… with the f-flowers…”

Faced with that reasoning, Ink would have supported Geno’s decision as well. Stars, it wasn’t like either of them knew what was going to happen, so how would have Ink? It seemed so… mundane. Go outside, let the twins experience something new… it was harmless. It should have been harmless. Hell, those flowers… they had-  _ Ink  _ had-

“We should have been f-faster…” Cross whispered.

But they weren’t. Neither Geno nor Cross were fast enough to stop little Merci from sticking a flower into her mouth, and though they got it out as soon as possible, the damage was done: Merci spat out the flower and it’s petals, but she inhaled the pollen.

“S-she couldn’t e-even  _ cry,”  _ Geno recalled, curled up on Reaper’s lap as he did his best to contribute to the recollection of events. “She- she couldn’t  _ b-breathe!” _

“I was panicking when they rushed in,” Reaper whispered, hold tight on Geno as he tried to work through his own fear to comfort him. “I- I couldn’t find the nebulizer in time, and I- I don’t even know if it would have  _ worked,  _ but Dream- he was the only one able to think clear, so he grabbed Merci and went straight to Sci’s when it became clear that we were running out of time.”

And that’s where they were now: The youngest of all the children in a precarious state with Dream at her side, reporting through a series of short texts and long phone calls in respect to Sci’s demands that only one representative of the family. He wasn’t the mother or one of the sires, but with Dream’s experience as a healer, he was the most sensible option to remain with Merciful, and so he continued to do so even three hours after her arrival at Sci’s.

As for those left behind, time dragged on slowly as worry turned seconds into hours and minutes into years.

Unable to stop crying, Geno continued to soak Reaper's robe with his tears as he cradled little Marigold close to his heaving chest, terrified of letting his smallest go lest anything happen to Mar. "Merci... Merci..." the glitch groaned, voice thick with tears. 

"She's okay, Gen," Reaper whispered, his own terror leaving the words strained. Even as he held his first husband close, his attention was worlds away; literally. "She... she isn't-" How ironic that Death himself couldn't bring himself to even utter the rest of his words. Dead, he wanted to say, but his breath kept hitching and his own sockets were blurring. "Our baby is going to make it home."

She had to.

Content to be in his mother's arms, the smallest yet oldest of the twins wasn't disturbed by the heavy emotions, but even he seemed aware of the tense air; whines often escaping the infant as a tiny frown hoarded control of his expression. Every now and then, he had to be soothed whenever tears filled sockets that remained squinted as he searched about for the little form he was so used to having near.

"He knows she isn't here..." Cross murmured. Briefly, he wondered if this was a sign that Marigold too could be an empath, but what he hoped to be a distracting thought fled him in the face of his own concern. He should have gone with Dream. He should- he should do something. Anything.  _ I... I've never been this afraid before...  _

The closest he ever came was years back, when Error-

"What the fuck is taking so long?" the destroyer hissed, his own arms trembling as he kept himself latched onto their artist. Ink's last spoken word had been little more than agonizing wail. Now, he refused to speak. He couldn't even bring himself to comfort the others, mind racing as he pictured the way little Merci’s face would have scrunched with a wail she couldn’t manage. "Fuck, it- it's been hours!"

To that, the artist seemed to get smaller. Hours, minutes… even a second away from Merci was too long, but this? This felt like torture. When was long considered  _ too _ long for something like this? None of them had asthma, so they weren’t sure, not when they never experienced the terrifying and sudden inability to get enough air in. Even now, nobody understood just how a skeleton could even  _ have _ asthma, and yet, their daughter succumbed to an attack today, and all because of some stupid flowers. Flowers that… that Ink…

_ It was supposed to be a surprise…  _ The start of a small garden that would one day grow when Geno found the courage to venture out of the house. Ink would take him to the edge of the property, and they’d sit and add to it—a row of flowers for every foot of progress the glitch made. He didn’t expect Geno to find the bravery to trek out there today. Stars, he- he didn’t think that flowers could  _ hurt his children! _

But they did. 

Of course, nobody was blind to the guilt and fear that Ink was probably feeling. Unfortunately, all Error could do to make him feel better was hold on tighter as his own frame shook—with fear, with the lingering distress he was desperately ignoring to focus on the here and now… Gods, and regret, too.  _ I should have kept my shit together. I- I should have been here, so then  _ Ink  _ would have been here too- _

Error sighed shakily, "You didn't know, squid."  _ Focus on your family. Make… make them feel better, and worry about your own damn idiocy later... _

His attempt didn't seem to help as much as Error was hoping for though, and frustrated tears itched in his sockets. Before any could fall however, he perked up at the now-familiar sound of Dream stepping through a portal. He wasn’t the only one to notice this though, as Geno was suddenly in Dream’s face, his fear for the guardian placed second to his concern for his child. 

“M-Merci…?”

"She's getting some rest with Sci for the moment." Dream murmured. "She's doing okay, but he has her in an oxygen tank to ensure her magic stabilizes." He gazed apologetically at the single socket the artist was peering at him with. "You're going to have to take out all the flowers, Ink, and we should probably dust the place, just in case. Sci… he tried his best to explain, but it’s- all the terms…”

“Dumb it down,” Error demanded.

Dream sighed, “He mentioned this a few weeks again, but everything really just comes down to the fact that her magic was underdeveloped at birth, and it resulted in complications. It’s like- like allergies, kind of. Her body just can’t filter certain things like ours, and- and Sci gave me a list. Two—one for things to look out for when it comes to Merci, and one for Mar since he mentioned… concerns. Merci has a followup in a few days, and we’ll need to take Mar in too so Sci can do an even more thorough inspection than the last one he had.”

There was the slightest of nods against Error's chest that let everyone know Ink understood, before he short-cutted out, presumably to begin tearing through the little starter garden that caused this whole mess.  _ Off to punish himself... _ Error couldn't help but think with a worried frown, watching his first husband through the window. 

With trembling hands, Geno whispered, "C-can we see her....?"

Dream's gaze darted back down to the glitch, surprised. "Geno, sweetheart, you... you aren't..."  _ In the best state of mind, ready... _ These words and more filtered through the golden eyed skeleton's thoughts, but... but he was changed now in a way he never expected to be. Now, he understood Geno's fears just a little more.  _ This is the child he carried, the soul he nourished the best he could for months... _

"Pl... please..." Geno croaked, and there was nothing steady about him; not his voice, or trembling form, or even his resolve. He wanted to see Merci, but even he was unsure if he could handle venturing out when his earlier attempt caused so much harm to his own daughter. Still, he had to try. "Please, Dr... Dream...  _ please." _

"...It's going to look scary, Geno," Dream warned. "Sci's been doing more research into this. Asthma is so rare for a skeletal child, and since our bodies are so dependent on magic... the machines helping her are heavily modified. Most, Sci made himself for other purposes."

"I don't _ care!  _ I ju-just... I just want to see my baby! I want-  _ please let me see her!" _

_ "Can I see him yet, brother?" he questioned, sockets nearly shut as he fought the urge to drift into a restful slumber. "I... I want to hold him, please. I want to hold my child." _

_ "Not yet, Posipaws. Let me ensure he's well." _

_ There was nothing wrong with what Negativity said, and yet... quietly, Posi began to cry. He was tired, and worn, and... and there was already a hole within his chest, as empty as his bedside where he kept wishing to see a tall figure stand. "Please..." he whispered, yearning to feel the warmth of his son. If he held his little creation, then perhaps love would fill all that open space. "Please, let me hold my baby." _

_ "Rest up, brother. You can cradle him once you wake.” _

_ His hurt followed him into his dreams. _

"Please," Geno begged yet again, sobbing.

And that broke Dream's resolve. Partially.  _ I'll go with him, _ Dream decided, glancing back to Reaper, who still had a hold on Marigold.  _ Would they be okay here? Would-  _

"It's okay, Sunstar," Reaper sent a trembling smile his way.  _ I trust you to look after him.  _

Cross looked hesitant, while Error stood up. "I'm coming too. Rookie, stay here." 

"Ah..." the guard frowned a little, though nodded. He would probably... well, he could see himself being helpful on either side of the new portal Dream made, but he caught himself watching Geno nervously.  _ Is Geno going to be more upset, or soothed? Am I really a help here, with Reaper...?  _

He knew the answers to exactly none of those. So he kept them to himself and watched Dream, Geno and Error step through after the glitch passed Mar off to his first.

_ They'll be fine... they'll be fine...  _ Cross glanced at Reaper, pausing in surprise to witness a similar stress in the otherwise teasing or straight-faced skeleton. "Reaper?" He could feel when the other's gaze landed on him. It was a strange kind of... awareness. "How are you....?"  _ As if he didn't know.  _ But, maybe the god would be honest with him? 

“...” Reaching behind him, the god drew his hood up over his head. At the response, Cross felt his resolve weakening and nearly apologized for such a dumb question, whenl: "I don't think I would be able to do it.” 

_ Do what? _ he almost asked foolishly. He only hesitated because of the raw fear in the god's voice. Thankfully, his words sank in and Cross realized just what Reaper meant.  _ Gods, how would it feel to reap your daughter? Or any of your own children? _ It seemed wrong, somehow. As if it shouldn't be possible. Oh, but it would be, right? Because by not reaping them, Reaper would be accused of foul play or some other political bullshit. Really, Cross didn't know, but he could only imagine the repercussions.

"...Death favors no one," Reaper murmured, voice as distant as his gaze. "At least, it- I'm not meant to, but I've never been the creature people expected me to be, and I- I just can't  _ not  _ care if it's my family. My  _ baby. _ I... gods, I wouldn't be able to do it, Cross, but- if I don't then-"

"Your brother would have to?" He phrased it like a question, but Cross wasn't guessing. He knew that the job would fall onto Respite if not Reaper. "...It's not going to come to that."

"I... I know..." and he  _ did _ , but- "It's so hard not to worry though. I- If there's one thing I know, it's that nothing is ever certain when it comes to my work. I've had victims snatched from me right as I swung my scythe, and calls reach my ears in places I  _ swore  _ weren't crying out for me before. Life, death... it's so- so damn  _ complicated  _ sometimes, and even though I know Merci is fine, I... I don't know if it'll stay that away..."

"What good will worrying about uncertainties do?" His question was for the god, but he found himself...  _ thinking  _ too. Even as he spoke to Reaper, Cross was reflecting on those same words. "Worrying about all those uncertainties... it'll put stress on you.... And then stress on your family because they'll want to help you, but... you're asking questions that you don't have answers to. Maybe you  _ can't  _ have answers to. Either now or later, or ever. So... here. What's something you can do right now?" 

Reaper stared at him morosely. "Um..." 

"Think small. Maybe it's something you've been putting off, or maybe it's something that's mindless but essential." 

Brows furrowing more, Reaper murmured, "Dishes...?" 

After a blink, Cross nodded. "Sure. Dishes is something. Why don't we do those right now?"

Hesitant, the god glanced down at Marigold. "I..."

"We- um, Geno keeps a crib in the kitchen, remember? I know you've seen it since, uh, he puts the twins in it during every meal. Marigold can wait in there, and he'll be close enough that we can keep an eye on him."

"He's already so upset without Merci here though..." Reaper murmured, shifting his hold on the smallest of the twins. 

Sure enough, Marigold did still seem disgruntled, but there wasn't much they could do about that at the moment. From experience gained through careful observation, Cross knew that the little skeleton didn't take well to others attempting to distract him with toys. Perhaps the eyes of such a tiny youth saw plushies as scary figures, because he often shrieked when they were waved about. Instead, the little thing found enjoyment in the possessions owned by his parents, such as Reaper's feathers or Ink's long scarf. 

_ Or whatever Merci plays with, _ Cross thought, thinking back to the way Mar always tried to grab for whatever Merci held. Earlier, he tried to snatch the innocent little flower away from her, too. It didn't matter if it was something that made the smallest twin shriek when offered. If Merci had it, then Mar seemed to want it. "How about you give him a feather to play with? Those seem to make him happy."

"If I pluck any more feathers for my children, then I'm going to end up without any wings," Reaper sighed, but he ran his fingers through his wings anyways until encountering a single loose feather. "Here, Mari. Would you like to play with this while Papa sets you down?"

He tickled Marigold's palm with it and almost by reflex, the infant clamped his fingers around the feather and brightened when he realized what it was. It seemed a suitable enough distraction. 

Once Reaper had him secured safely in the crib, there wasn't a single bout of crying or tantrums. Just Marigold playing with the feather- oh and popping it in his mouth, which caused more than just a little panic given Merci’s state. 

Strained, Reaper murmured, "Those aren't from a chicken's wings, hatchling,” and coaxed the feather from the little thing’s mouth.

Cross felt a smile appear on his face, and he let it stay there, stepping forward to both help watch over Marigold and to dry and put away the dishes. It was strangely peaceful. In the castle, dishes were truly a chore, especially with the knives.  _ Gods, how many times had Killer and Horror demanded that he resharpen the knives? "Don't let them soak, but don't let them rust!" _ It had been so many rules, though they helped shape Cross' own routine with his own knives. 

An unexpected twinge of sadness wriggled it's way into Cross' chest.  _ How are those fuckers doing...? And Endure? Gods... Endure was duped and he's still there... _

Truthfully, he wasn't particularly close to the Papyrus. Given time, they could have grown to be friends, but Geno's capture followed by the imprisonment of Error and the others put a strain on what little connection they had growing. He was too busy following orders thrown at him left and right to keep up with the training he should have been helping Endure through as second, and then was too appalled by the Papyrus' blatant hatred to  _ want  _ to seek him out much. Still, he understood where Endure was coming from.

_ No one becomes a Nightmare by choice. _ Not even if they believed otherwise, and especially not if they were naturally inclined towards good like Endure tried so hard not to be. "I wonder if he still believes all those lies..."

"Who?"

It took longer than it should have to realize that he spoke out loud. Trying to distract Reaper from his unintentional statement would only bring more attention to it, so Cross simply decided to take a... a leap of faith, of sorts. "Endure."

Immediately, Reaper stiffened. "Oh...  **him** ."

Surely, if Cross had any hair, it would be standing straight with the chill that settled into his SOUL when those dark, empty eyes turned his way. Beneath his clothing, the scarfs from his battle with Reaper burned with an ice so cold it seared. "Y-yeah... I just- Sometimes I wonder about him, and- and the others."

Reaper's gaze got darker, no doubt thinking about his own scar, and the marks Geno wore that looked so much like sorrowful, bloody tears. "Why?"

"...I... I guess... it's because I... worry? We weren't close, but... but I think it's probably cruel to be content with the knowledge that they've been left behind a place like the castle." When a knife was passed his way, Cross quickly tucked it into his inventory. He wasn’t sure if he could trust Geno’s earlier progress anymore. "I don't really expect you to feel bad for them, but... I get them, kinda. We all became Nightmares because of promises none of us realized were actually lies. We all paid for it too, but they're  _ still  _ paying."

It would have been easy for Reaper to disagree. To express his anger and hatred at those who've scarred and mutilated his family. The truth was that he  _ was  _ still quite angry and baleful, and yet... 

He could sympathize, too. 

Reaper sighed. "So... you're just  _ thinking  _ about them, right? No... plans?" 

"Plans?" 

The god dropped his gaze back to the dishes. "You're not planning to endanger this family by trying to rescue them?" he asked, cringing slightly. It wasn't exactly fair... probably, the nightmares were almost like a second family to Cross, and here Reaper was, basically telling him to choose. "Nevermind..."

He didn't expect Cross to even bother answering, and so readily. "No, I... I wouldn't put anyone here at risk just to rescue the three of them." At his startled gaze, the shorter skeleton cracked a smile. "I feel bad for them, I do, but... it's important to pick your battles. Maybe it's not always easy, but you need to be able to choose which wars you fight, and what you're willing to lose."

"You've known them longer, haven't you?"

Cross nodded, but it was followed up with a shrug. "Look, it's... complicated. When I was just a rookie, we were... closer, I guess. That changed when I was promoted to second though, and... and even if I never got the title, I think we would have grown apart anyways. Killer, Horror... they don't actually mind what they do, you know? The only time they dislike it is when it affects them directly. Me though..."

_ "Is this what you want out of your life?!" Dream shouted, sneering as he jerked his hand to the side. When Cross followed the motion, he found himself staring at nothing more than crumbled buildings, soot, and traces of dust just a little too gray to pass as snow. "Murder, chaos... is this really what you want to spend the rest of your fucking life doing?!" _

"...I got tired of it, and I... even at my worst, it was never the... dirty parts of the job I liked. Hurting people, scaring children... it didn't feel good." But the destruction did. Tearing down homes, buildings... he didn't want to steal any lives, but it felt damn good to ruin them, just like his own was torn to shreds by the destruction of his world. "Horror and Killer never understood that."

It took a few moments for them to recognize that they had just been staring at each other while the water ran. Quickly they returned to their tasks and got the dishes finished within minutes. "So..." Reaper murmured again, "You really are as sweet as Dream thought you'd be." 

Memories of those trashed universes and lost lives flashed in Cross' mind. He didn't have a response. 

Thankfully, neither of them had to worry about a new conversation when Marigold suddenly shrieked. Twin glances down had the feather on the floor and Marigold tearing up. 

Reaper swooped in and lifted the child up. "Easy there, hatchling. Your sister will be back soon." He bent down and lifted the wet and mangled looking feather. Cringing slightly to himself, he tossed it in the trash and simply checked over Marigold.  _ Hopefully he didn't swallow anything. _

Displeased, Marigold's expression scrunched into a look of intense upset, warning both skeletons of the fit to come. Sure enough, the little thing shrieked again, then began to wail.

On the bright side, there didn't seem to be any little pieces of feather in his mouth.

"I think he wants his toy back," Cross supplied, peering into the trash and pulling a face at the sight of the tossed feather. "Just... not that one. Error made the twins dolls, didn't he? Oh, but Mar doesn't like them... Should I grab that, uh, blankie from his crib upstairs?"

"Please?" The so-called blankie itself was actually a torn piece of Reaper's cloak. It was about the size of a dish rag, but Mar liked it a lot more than everything else they tried using to entertain him. "Maybe grab Merci's actual blanket, too? She drools all over it, so... I don't know, maybe he'll latch onto the magic seeped into the thing?"

With a nod, Cross disappeared, leaving Reaper to handle the fitful child all on his own. It wasn't something he necessarily minded, but... Stars, Mar's little upset expression was so hard to look at. He looked... sad. A little angry, too. 

"Your big brother misses you, Merci," Reaper whispered.

_ Please, come home soon. _


	34. A Doctor and Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sci and Reaper have a chat.

Merciful’s absence loomed over their heads for quite a while, tarnishing the usually comforting atmosphere of their home. In defiance to Sci’s request, Geno often accompanied those that went off to visit the youngest twin, his usual distaste for the great unknown never forgotten, but forcefully ignored whenever he ventured out to keep his little girl company. 

In addition to this small, albeit temporary victory, the glitch also seemed to forget his previous fear of Dream, though it was admittedly hard to remain wary of someone who consistently proved reliable, and loving. After all, aside from Geno himself, Dream was the other most frequent visitor that Merci had, constantly stopping by to give his greeting to the little thing and leeching whatever knowledge on the children’s abnormalities that Sci had to offer. The two didn’t strike up much conversation—Geno too concerned about Merci, Dream too busy deciphering a scientist's mess scrawl—but… but there was an understanding there.

_I never meant to scare you._

_I know, but I don’t remember how not to be afraid._

For now, that was enough, and Geno got used to the golden primordial’s presence once again; slowly at first, then in leaps and bounds as his worry for Merci ate at him, leaving his slumped again Dream in Sci’s makeshift medical room more often than not.

Of course, the glitch and golden primordial weren’t the only visitors that Merci had, just the most frequent. Honestly, that was only because it was hard to beat their records when Geno and Dream were almost always constantly there, not because the others didn’t find the time to visit. No, the others dedicated as much time as they possibly could to the littlest twin whenever prior responsibilities didn’t keep them

Between souls, Reaper would pop over to croon over his daughter, and nudge Geno and Dream into taking care of themselves. Although crime was suspiciously low, a lot of Ink’s time went into helping Blue go over various checkpoints strewn all over the multiverse, and quietly discussing potential methods of ending the resets in his Swap; something that Blue seemed particularly insistent on once the artist briefly mentioned the possibility. As time consuming as that was though, Ink still stole away many precious moments to creep into Sci’s home, curling up with Geno in his hold and Dream at his side with every ounce of his attention on the little form of his wheezy child. Sometimes however, he’d show up and find Cross already fulfilling the cuddling part. Other times, the guard could be found hovering in a nearby corner, needing to be coaxed into stepping closer with reassurances that, _yes, Cross, you’re allowed to care for her too._

Spright would visit, often alongside Respite, and every now and then one of them would bring the children along as well, though they all mutually agreed that it would be best for tinier, frailer Marigold to remain home on the days he didn’t have his own examinations to sit through. Merci’s asthma episode all stemmed from her underdeveloped magic after all, and it was obvious that Mar suffered more in his mother’s womb than his sister. No one was eager to stumble into an ailment beyond Mar’s already questionable hearing unless they were prepared to handle it. For now, he was safe, and his sister was on the mend.

And if no one made a fuss about the familiar blue threads circling Merci’s tiny form, constantly monitoring her status, then so be it. Sci wasn’t exactly pleased with it, but the threads weren’t doing any harm, or interfering with the devices ensuring Merci’s safety. Plus, they allowed Error his own form of visitation when the cagey destroyer couldn’t bring himself to visit in person.

Error’s relief was just as obvious as everyone else’s though when Ink returned three weeks into Merci’s prolonged absence with said child in his arms, smiling brightly with Geno at his side as they announced Merci’s official release from Sci’s care. Those words, seeing Merci blinking at them curiously and drooling all over herself with a bright grin… Stars, it was as if someone drew open dark, heavy curtains to let all the light back into their home.

Marigold was particularly pleased, his grumpy little scowl easing into a wide grin once he had his sister back. Well, until Merci tried to steal the black feather he was waving about like a broken rattle. After that, he seemed just as grumpy as he had been in her absence even if he slept deeper with her returned to the crib next to his own.

After a week of easing back into a sense of normalcy however, everyone, including little Marigold, definitely proved to be pleased with Merci’s return overall. Geno and Ink kept playing tug-of-war when it came to shouldering responsibility for Merci’s attack, Error was distant, and Reaper seemed to steal his first husband’s insistent need to check on the twins frequently throughout the day, but… but they were getting there. They were trying their best to recover from a stumble that led to a terrifying fall and, so far, things were going well.

Which is why no one so much as tensed when a knock was heard at the front door. 

“Coming-! Mari, sweetheart, _no._ Daddy’s wings are going to go bald if I keep plucking feathers for you and your sis- Merci, princess, don’t- _I said I’m coming!”_ Reaper shouted when another knock came, plucking two not-quite-loose feathers from his wings and passing them to the twins before drifting over to the door. “Hello- oh! It’s Wednesday, huh?”

Nose in a book, Sci merely offered a vague hum. _I kind of hoped that we would be friends by now…_ Reaper couldn't help but think, frowning. _Sci is… still so weird around us. He barely even say hi despite coming over so often,_ though that may have been lingering irritation on the scientist’s end as a result of… well, who knew? Reaper still didn’t have the confidence to ask the other Sans about where they all _really_ stood with him after Ink murdered Red. 

Trying to shake those sorts of thoughts away, Reaper grinned. "You’re here for the twins, right? We left the equipment you brought over last time in their room, just like you asked.” 

"Yeah, though I have other business that I wanted to discuss as well." Here, the scientist looked up with a concerned frown, his eyelights sharp with his usual intense thirst for knowledge, yet… concerned? "I was doing a bit of personal research when it came to my attention that the eldest children should be in school by now." At Reaper's surprised expression and a stuttered out agreement, some surprising color came to Sci's face. Suddenly meeker, he offered an uncomfortable smile, murmuring, "Red and I... Well, to put it plainly: I am with child, and I was curious about the way you go about ensuring an education for your children.” Seeming to lose his nerve, Sci glanced away, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

Sci was…?!

Subconsciously, Reaper’s gaze drifted… _lower._ He had to squint a little, but… yeah, Sci definitely looked a lot squishier. How far along was he though? Stars, they were so concerned about Merci that none of them really took notice of anything different, but… well, _he’s so covered up with those clothes and that coat of his, that I can’t even tell if he really has anything formed._

Curious, he squinted harder.

Sci toyed with his collar again, then cleared his throat as he buttoned up his usual white coat. “I assure you, I do have breasts beneath this shirt, though they’re not quite as obvious as Geno’s, so they’re rather well hidden. That’s probably for the best, however. You see… _my_ husband tends to be rather possessive of my naked body.”

Realizing that he was all but mentally undressing Sci with his gaze, Reaper squawked out an apology and shifted his stare somewhere much safer; Sci’s face.

“It’s okay, though I would still like my question answered. How do you all go about teaching the children? I’ve been looking into different options myself, and I think homeschooling would be the most preferable.”

“...Actually,” Reaper began, sheepish, “We… haven’t really been giving them a consistent education… yet. I, uh, I was actually considering asking _you_ for help with getting them set up with some lessens before…” 

Before Negativity broke his ankle, before Dream terrified Geno, before Merci nearly lost her life to an asthma attack of sorts…

“...Well, things just got hectic, and I kind of forgot to ask about it. But, um, if you think you’re interested in homeschooling your own kid in the future… maybe you’d like some practice?”

"Oh?" Sci murmured, a brow raised in disbelief. "That seems... just a little too coincidental for my liking. Up until this point, I’ve strictly acted as a doctor. Why turn to me to educate your children, and why now?”

Reaper frowned. “Well, aside from the fact that I just said things got kind of crazy…. Paperjam is already behind, and Goth is going to end up that way too if we don't do anything," he explained. "Uh, Jam is 6, and Goth is 5. They- the school year has already begun, but none of them have even been to preschool yet. Gen and the others usually did what they could, but that was before... _everything_ , and now… after having we’ve been through, and- and after Merci almost losing her life because of a _plant…”_

"You're wary about sending them out into the wild?"

"Into the wild is... a funny way to put it," Reaper chuckled weakly, stepping out to join Sci on the porch. "But yeah, I'm... worried. I don't know where to start or anything." 

Sci didn't seem surprised at the silent request for poverty and merely made himself comfortable by leaning against the nearest sturdy surface. "I can give you some materials. Books and papers and other things that they should be learning right now. But it's going to be up to _you_ to provide them a majority of their education." 

Well, it… wasn’t like there weren’t many of them home at once. Geno would be unlikely to head out on his own now that Merci was back home, Cross didn’t go out much at all, and Ink was kind of banished from Star meetings when Dream realized that he had been forgoing sleep to work with Blue _and_ be there for Merci on top of entertaining the children left at home. Error was home pretty often, too. Sure he was acting a bit like a lone wolf recently, but… 

A smile graced Reaper's face when he began considering how the four would go about teaching. Error had a lot more patience when dealing with their kids than others, and Geno was already trying to spread his love of reading… Stars, he could almost hear Ink and Cross fighting about being the art teacher…

"That's very kind of you, thank you."

"...However," Sci continued, hesitant, "If you find yourself with... a position or two, even three, to fill, I wouldn't mind acting as a teacher myself. Truthfully, I really _am_ lacking in expertise here, and the opportunity to teach would help with gaining experience… both in regards to instructing children, and… erm…”

"You've never taught before?" Reaper questioned, choosing not to tease Sci over his obvious discomfort with the idea of raising a child. _We’re not really friends… not yet..._

The scientist shrugged, smiling faintly. "Not really, and certainly never to children. It would be... both interesting and beneficial to try doing so, though I suppose you'll have to discuss it with the rest of your family? They don't seem to care much for me beyond the services I provide you with. Free of charge, might I add."

Now embarrassed, Reaper glanced away. Truthfully, payment never once crossed his mind. "Sorry, we’ll… definitely fix that moving forward. Just, uh, give us your rates? Is… is that the right word?” He actually wasn’t all the familiar with mortal terms for finances. “Heh and, um, don't take it too hard…? Gen has always been slow to trust, even before… Anyways, Error is... well, I don't think he really likes anyone that takes up our time. He's never said it, but I think he's a bit of an attention hog. Cross is sweeter than he seems, just wary. Dream... I actually can't really tell with him, sometimes."

"And Ink?"

"Ink is-"

"Sorry to interrupt, but..."

Both he and Sci startled, their heads snapping to the left.

Smiling sheepishly, Blue offered the two a shaky, nervous wave with a single gloved hand. The other rested on his stomach, tapping nervously. "...Is Error home? I... um, I’ve been trying to text him for a while now, but I think he’s ignoring me out of embarrassment. And-”

Suddenly, the faint green tinged to Blue’s cheeks became more pronounced. Then, the small Sans disappeared. When he returned, it was with a nauseated expression, and a hint of fear in his eyes.

“I really need to talk to him, please.”


	35. Lusting for Some Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two skeletons come to chat!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Sexual content, though nothing too terrible. Brief mention of domestic abuse, and some dubcon at the very end, after the break. Nothing too detailed.

Surprise lit up both of their faces. "Error?" Reaper finally squawked. He was aware that there was some strange connection between the destroyer and Blue, but he wasn’t aware that they were friends. The most he knew was of some kidnapping incident that took place well before his marriage to the destroyer. "Um, yeah, he's in the house. Want me to grab him for you?" 

Torn between anxiety and relief, Blue nodded. "Please? Um, hi, Sci..." he greeted, smiling hesitantly at the other. 

“Good morning, Blue.”

With a final glance at the two Reaper stepped inside and searched around the house for- well, it really wasn't that hard. Error and Ink were standing in the living room, talking quietly to each other while Paperjam hung off of the artist’s arm, giggling.  _ Cute…  _

"Error?" Reaper called out, smiling slightly when both turned towards him and offering Jam a indulgent wave when the child eagerly called out to him. "Are you busy? Blue showed up. He asked for you?”

Error stared for a moment, frowning suspiciously. "Me? Why not inkblot over here, or sand for brains?" 

"Nope... he asked for you specifically."

"...Why?" Error demanded, shifting closer to Ink.

While he didn’t have the same insight into Error’s emotions as Ink or even Dream, Reaper still had the benefit of simply  _ knowing  _ his husband’s personality to realize that the wariness Error was trying for wasn’t quite hitting the mark. Behind the emotion, there was something hesitant that seemed more like… embarrassment, if he had to guess. That seemed to fit best with the faint hint of color on the destroyer’s cheeks, and the way he was suddenly extremely interested in his sandal-clad feet.  _ Gen is going to get on his ass for wearing shoes in the house…  _

“Uh, he didn’t really say?” Gaze flickering to Ink, Reaper blinked. The artist was smiling, and he  _ seemed  _ to be in a good mood, so… Blue probably didn’t have bad intentions, else the primordial’s hackles would have been raised. Still. “Do you want me to send him away?”

“Yes.”

Ink chuckled, swinging Paperjam up into his arms for a nuzzle. “Aw, c’mon, Ru. Your bestie came all this way to talk to you, and you’re going to just turn him away? Don’t be so mean!”

“He’s not my friend, shitstain!” Error sputtered, the adorable golden hue of his embarrassment brightening. “I don’t want to see him!”

The artist cooed. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, Ru.” When he spoke next, Ink’s voice was lower. Reaper had to strain to catch his words, though his quiet laughter almost obscured the words when he caught Paperjam not so subtly listening in on their mother’s words as well. “He’s not going to tease you just because you had a breakdown in his world.”

Reaper startled. “Ru had a  _ wha-” _

_ “Nothing!”  _ Error hissed, giving Ink a glare before softening his expression for Paperjam’s sake. There was still a lot that went over their head, but Paperjam was getting older. They were already such a bright child. Eventually, it would be difficult to keep them in the dark, but there were still things that he wanted to protect their kid from—all of their kids. His terrible mental and emotional state was one. “Just- didn’t you say that you were going to show Jam how to give the twins a bath?”

Ink pouted, but accepted the distraction for what it was. “Ru, they’re not old enough to help with that.”

“Not on their own, no, but they’re old enough to help if someone else is there.” Pausing, the destroyer squinted at the ceiling. He was pretty sure that Cross was up there somewhere being a nervous idiot. “Why don’t you grab the Rookie, too? He’s been wanting to do more.”

“Papa Cross can be  _ my  _ helper!” Paperjam chirped in an imitation of Reaper and Goth’s own cheerful noises. “Papa Cross will be my helper, and I’ll be Mama’s helper!” 

“Do you think Gothy wants to join?” Reaper questioned. In all honesty, it was strange to see the two apart for this long. Usually, they were attached at the hip.

Even more surprising than that was the lack of hesitation that Paperjam showcased as they shook their head. “Gothy is on a secret mission.”

“...A what?” The three choursed, sharing a confused look.

Paperjam grinned. “Daddy Dream told me ‘n’ Gothy that Daddy Geno needs a nap, but that he’s too, um… stubborn! He doesn’t wanna nap even though he has to, so…” mischievous, the child grinned wider. It was almost concerning just how much of Ink there was in that expression. “Gothy is sitting on him until he goes to sleep!”

_ So much for it being a  _ secret  _ mission,  _ Reaper thought, expression soft and smile warm.  _ It’s a good plan though. Gen probably won’t have the heart to boot Goth off of his lap, and always did fall asleep easily once he gets comfortable… _

“Tch, your boyfriend is a sneaky fuc- fudger, squid,” Error snorted, barely catching himself at the end.

“You mean  _ our  _ boyfriend~” Smiling himself, Ink readjusted Paperjam with a little boost so that they were better seated on his hip before giving his husbands a smile. “I’ll see you two later. And Ru? Go talk to Blue, please? He seems really upset.”

“...Fine.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to tell him you’re busy?” Reaper questioned. 

"I think Ru should talk to him, but if that’s what he really wants? Well then, I could help make sure that you're actually _ busy," _ Ink purred, shooting Reaper a small, private smile that told the god he was well aware of what that low, sensual tone did to him.

Indeed, Reaper found himself shivering and almost yearning for what Ink was implying, but... “N-not in front of the kid!” he squawked, using Paperjam as a shield to protect his virtue, not that there was much to even protect. Still, now wasn’t the time! ...But he wouldn’t have minded if-  _ Nope, not now. A lot has been going on, and I still need to figure out this new thing with Sci, and-  _ Oh. “Um, one more thing: What do you two think about homeschooling the children…? Specifically, having Sci help us?”

“School…?” Paperjam’s expression scrunched, displeased. “I don’t want to go to school!”

“Sci?” Ink murmured. “Huh, I thought I felt him around here. You two were talking about school…?”

“Jam and Goth need  _ some  _ sort of education, don’t they? I wasn’t really sure when to bring it up, but… I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” Quieter, Reaper added, “Being homeschooled seems safer, too.”

“I don’t want to go to school!” Paperjam whined.

Lovingly, their parents ignored them. “I’m fine with it,” Error decided. He didn’t particularly like Sci, but they were at least familiar with him by now. “You’re going to have to talk to the others about it too, though.”

“I can do that!” Ink offered, nuzzling Paperjam with a chuckle when the child continued to protest this new development. “You can focus on getting more details, and I’ll talk to the others once Merci and Mar have their baths. And Ru?”

“...I’ll talk to Blue?” Error grumbled.

The artist grinned. “Thank you!”

“Whatever,” the destroyer grumbled, leaning in for a kiss that Ink eagerly went to meet halfway, just to end up sulking when Error smirked and dipped down at the last moment, pressing his teeth to Paperjam’s skull. “Be good, and listen to  _ everything  _ your mom tells you when helping out. Got it?”

“Yes sir!”

“Good brat.” Not really having much else to say, Error took a deep breath and made his way out the door, followed by Reaper. Sure enough, Blue was found in front of the house, chatting quietly with Sci. Remembering the state he was in the last time they talked made Error want to spin on his heel and march back inside the house, but he forced himself to stay put. "Ya wanted to see me, pipsqueak?"

Blue always smiled like he had the sun itself shoved up his ass, which made it so obvious that the one he shot Error now was strained. "Error! Hi! I... um, yes! I did! See, I was wondering if- Oh, hi again Reaper. You're... obviously here again too." Smiling wider, Blue giggled nervously. "...Can we talk inside, Error? Um... alone?"

Error cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, 'berry. No strangers allowed in the house, for now. We can move to the backyard though...? Uh, if you want?" Geno wasn't in the kitchen, so there wasn't a chance that they'd be seen through the back door. "Follow me, tiny."  _ Please don’t mention the breakdown, or your missing bed. _

"R-right! Okay! Um, talk later, Sci! It was nice seeing you again! And tell Red that he still owes me 50g for that anniversary gift he still hasn't worked up the nerve to give you!"

"Wait, what anniversary-"

Smile a little more genuine, the smallest of the Stars cheerfully bounced after Error, ensuring that Sci had no time to press him on the secret he purposely spilled. "There, maybe now Red will stop being so silly.... Oh wait, um... I'm sorry, Error! You probably... don't want to hear about him."

Not really sure what to say in response to  _ that  _ Error just shrugged. “...Take a seat.” he demanded once they made it to the backyard, motioning to a small patio set they rarely used. “Talk to me.”  _ Don’t mention the breakdown, don’t ask how I’m doing, let me pretend that everything is okay- _

Nervously, Blue fiddled with the end of his shirt. "S...so.... You know how you asked me about my relationship last time we… hung out?"

"...Look, I'm going to have to be an asshole here, tiny." And no, Error absolutely wouldn't feel bad about it, either. Even if Blue began to cry, he'd remain a cold, unfeeling bastard. “The thought of you doing grown-up shit creeps me the fuck out.”

Blue startled, then scowled with a huff. “I’m not a child, Error! Being short and absolutely adorable,” Ah, the typical Papyrus-like pride, “doesn’t mean I’m innocent, or diminish the fact that I am an  _ adult!  _ It shouldn’t be weird that I date, and kiss, or even that I have sex!”

Error stared unblinkingly at the skeleton before him. Something about Blue saying sex, let alone the image of him engaged in such activities was still trying to process in his mind. He couldn't think about the rest of what he had just said, at least not yet. Did… did they talk about this last time? A lot of what they discussed beyond the benefits of good communication was… hazy. He wasn’t quite sure if that was the mental breakdown’s fault, or if he threw up some sort of memory block in order to protect himself.

"You've had sex?" 

With a fierce pout, Blue slammed fists against his hips and narrowed his gaze up at Error. "Just because everyone seems to think I'm innocent and naive and pure doesn't mean I am! Yes! I've had sex! Wild, passionate,  _ downright filthy sex! _ " 

"Who?"  _ Who tainted him?! Who is this... this...  _ well, it was odd to think of Blue as an adult, even though he's been far into adulthood ever since Error met him. And kidnapped him that one time. It was somehow harder to think- Error shook his head.  _ Why am I imagining him having sex?! What the fuck is wrong with me?!  _

At his question though, Blue looked flustered. his arms came together in front of his chest and he murmured. "W....well… um, didn’t I tell you already?” he squeaked, hopeful that Error would grant him the mercy of privacy.

Error didn’t answer. He didn’t even really look like he heard Blue’s question with how intensely he was staring at the smaller skeleton, his eyes wide in… horror? Blue was pretty sure the expression was something along those lines.

“Error…?”

The destroyer continued to stare. At Blue. Specifically, at his chest.

At Blue's  _ chest. _

"...This... this is wrong on so many levels," Error whispered, staring at the obvious curves beneath the shorter skeleton's shirt.  _ Blue has boobs. What the fuck, why does he- who the fuck let him have boobs?! He isn't even wearing a fucking bra! _ And, apparently, he was chilly.

Oh gods, he knew that Blue was chilly.

"Error, my eyes are up here," Blue huffed, shifting his arms to hide the nipples Error couldn't seem to stop staring at, eyes wide and horrified. "Honestly, you're being very rude. Ruder for even... well, you!"

Just- "Just answer the question, Blue! Who the hell are you,” Erro cringed, “dating? ....More importantly, who fucking knocked you up?!" 

"H-how rude!" 

"You already said that. Now tell me who the fuck shoved their dick inside of you long enough to cause—" Error motioned to Blue, disgusted. “Those? And why the fuck aren’t you wearing a bra?! You can’t just walk around with a white shirt and fucking  _ colored  _ ecto if you’re not going to wear a bra!  _ I didn’t want to know the exact shade of your fucking nip-” _

Blue squeaked and hid his face for a moment, trying to restrain a mortified sob. "Error!" he cried. 

"I’m not even wearing my fucking glasses and I could see-”

“I want to ask my boyfriend to marry me!” Blue blurted, desperate to change the direction of this conversation.

Error blinked. “...Just ask?” he suggested calmly. So far, that was the least mortifying revelation. 

Turning towards him, Blue snatched his hands and sent his best pleading gaze up to him. "How did you and Ink pop the question? Who popped the question? How did you do it?"

_ Face pressed into the middle of his back, Ink gave a happy, muffled sigh as he blindly ran a hand over Error's rounding stomach; too short to see over his shoulder but insistent that he wanted to hold Error and their child from behind. "Aw, they're getting so big~" Ink noted, smile hidden in the back of his hoodie. _

_ Error scowled, offended by the observation that unintentionally called him fat. "Yeah, we should..." he hesitated. Still unsure that all of this was actually real, that Ink was here for them and happy, he uncertainly mumbled, "We should think of names." _

_ "Ink Junior!" _

_ "Wha- no, you asshole!" _

_ "Error Junior?" _

_ "No!" _

_ "Marry me?" _

_ "No, you idi-" Error froze, his breath lodging itself somewhere in his throat alongside his words. That was... he- choking on every letter, he asked, "Are... are you serious?" _

_ Ink's voice was soft, but his words rang clear in Error's ears. "Yeah, Ruru, I am. Marry me. It doesn't have to be now, or anytime soon, but... let's get married. I don't just want to raise a baby with you, Error. I want to be with you and raise a baby. I want to get the chance to raise a lotta them, one day." _

_ Error had to wait until he stopped crying to say 'yes'. _

_ He had to wait for the euphoria of being engaged to fade to realize they still needed to pick a name. _

Flustered, Error crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, annoyed simply for the sake of avoiding embarrassment. "I don't remember," he lied, "but that doesn't matter, dumbass. You're not me, and whoever you're dating sure as hell isn't Ink. Fuck, dating. You're actually-  _ ugh _ , that's weird. I can't believe your brother actually let you do grown up shit like that."

"Papy may be my older brother, but that does not give him the right to say what I can or cannot do. I already told you, Error: I'm an adult, and..." Blue huffed, deciding to simply do away with Error's disbelief once and for all, though he already tried. "If I want to fuck, I'll fuck! And if I want to date the person I fucked, then I'll date the person I fucked. And if I want to  _ marry  _ the person I fucked, then I'll fucking marry the person that I fucking fucked! Do you fucking understand now, Error?"

Meekly, the destroyer nodded, eyes wide. "...Holy shit, I didn't think you actually had that in you, tiny."

Confidence suddenly growing, Blue grinned at him and said, "But of course! I am the  _ Magnificent  _ Sans! I've got all that and more residing within me! Greatness! And p-potential!" Here, he blushed and dropped his gaze. "So... so do you have any... any... advice?" 

"You like the asshole?" 

"He's not a-" With a great sigh, Blue nodded. "Yeah. Yeah I like him." 

"And you..." with a twitch, Error forced the words out, "You two willingly, consentingly, did the dirty tango?"  _ Is that why I threw his bed out…? Fuck, don’t tell me I slept in jizz.  _

Blush now more obvious, Blue nodded. "Y-yeah, we had consenting sex." 

"In that case, just ask. The next date you go on, wear some fancier than usual shit, take him somewhere super nice. Demand that he marry you because you're magnificent and shit." Error shrugged. "I don't think it's that hard."  _ Asgoro’s proposal was kind of like that.  _ Well, it was flashier, and Blue probably wouldn’t have to fight an evil twin, but… the basics were there. “It’s easy.”

But Blue didn’t seem comforted. "What if... what if he  _ doesn't  _ actually like me...?" he whispered. "What if I've been reading all this wrong...?" 

Error snapped, smirking to hide the growing discomfort within himself. "Stop that," he ordered. "You're asking a buncha stupid questions now. You've had romantic dates, yeah?" Blue stared up with teary eyes and nodded. "And ya had sex more than a couple times?" Another nod. Curiously, Error asked, "How long has it been?" 

Blue cringed. “...Next month, it’ll be a year. But- but I really,  _ truly  _ like him, Error. Even if we haven’t been together long, we- we’ve been friends. And after that conversation I told you about? Where I- ya’know? Tried to… rent him? Things got so much more… intimate, but not just in regards to sex. We have the most amazing talks, and- and we’re  _ honest  _ with one another. Papy keeps telling me that it’s too soon, that- that we’re doomed for divorce, but I love him, Error. I just…” Seeming to shrink in place, Blue slid a hand over his stomach. “...What if he thinks I’m just trying to trap him because I… because…” Uncomfortable, Blue shuddered. “There’s a b-baby in me.” 

At that, Error couldn’t help but raise a brow. The thought of Blue being pregnant was weird as fuck, but he had to admit that he would have thought that the other, smaller skeleton would have been excited to be a parent. And yet, Blue was clearly discomforted by the idea.  _ Weird…  _ “That’s dumb as shit. Does he know about the brat?”

“...No…” Blue whispered. “I- I was able to hide it until my ecto settled, but I- how do I even tell him? Oh, what if it’s too much? Revealing that I’m pregnant? Asking to marry him? Error, I- I’ll overwhelm him!”

“Just… take it slow then? Look, berrybrat, I don’t know what you want me to say. If you think this’ll work out, then just… let him know your intentions, and that if he’s a dick and doesn’t want to be involved with you because you’re pregnant, then he can fuck off and you’ll find someone better.” Seeing the teary sheen in Blue’s sockets, Error cringed. “...I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that? Fuck, I don’t actually know, okay? I just- communication and shit, right? Ya just gotta talk it out. You’re good at that.”

Blue's eyes widened slightly. Within seconds, those famously brilliant stars showed in his eyes and he was gripping Error tightly. "Thank you!!! I knew you'd be able to help!" 

In all honesty, Error had no idea if Blue was ready for this or not. He had no idea if a year was too short of a wait, or if Blue and his partner should've been having sex, or even who this partner was. Maybe they were using Blue for something? Maybe they really didn't care about him...? Maybe this was the worst idea Error ever agreed to....? 

But as Blue turned away to answer a message from his phone, even Error could see the stupidly sweet smile on his face. It was his boyfriend. It  _ had  _ to be, because Error recognized that struck-dumb expression everywhere: in his husbands as they peered at each other when they thought the others weren't looking, in himself when he caught his reflection in the mirror as he thought about Ink. Whoever was on the other end of that phone, making Blue make that stupid smile... 

He was very important to Blue.

“...So, are you going to tell me who it is, or are you going to actually make me fucking guess?” He had a skeleton or two in mind, but all Error could really decide on were the flaws with his guesses.  _ I’m pretty sure I saw Outer fucking his Grillby... _ so not him. Maybe it was a Papyrus? Oh. Fuck.

“I’m going to fucking vomit if it’s Fell.” And not just because Ink murdered his brother. No, it was just- just  _ wrong—  _ the thought of tiny, sweet Blueberry taking dick from that tall, edgelord bastard. “I’m serious, too. I’ll fucking puke all over those dumb boots of yours.”

“W-wha— it’s not Fell!” Blue sniffed, a bit peeved that Error even thought that. “I told you that we broke up!”

“...You what? When?! Wait, when the fuck were you two even-“

Blue stared, sockets narrowed suspiciously. “Error... did you really not listen to a single one of my stories when you kidnapped me? I talked about him a lot!”

Truthfully, all Error could remember from that time was regret. Blue chatted so often that, at the time, he just resorted to blocking everything out since he was too damn prideful to let Blue go. It would have felt too much like admitting that he fucked up.

“Well, if it’s not him then I guess the fucker has to be pretty decent. I can’t think of anyone else that’d be—“ Error froze, because... no. That wasn’t true. He  _ could  _ think of someone worse for Blue. “...Tell me my thoughts are wrong.”

“...Error, I don’t know what your thoughts are. I’m not a mind reader and no offense, but I think your mind would be a little too hectic to follow even if I was.”

_ I'm going to crash. And vomit. And-  _ "J-just tell me." 

_ "Hey handsome, I'm surprised to see you around here. I thought you couldn't stand the thought of-"  _

_ "I'd be more than happy to add your hands to my collection if you get within two feet of me, bitch," the Destroyer snarled. "I'm here because-"  _

_ A dramatic sigh, and the skeleton before him waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah. Payment. Stars wonder why he wants payment from us."  _

_ "Be thankful it's only funds he wants, and not your..." disgusted, Error stared around at the lewd acts and blatant nudity the skeleton before him didn't even seem to notice.  _

_ "Oh believe me, sugar, I'm more than happy to only supply money to your Boss instead of all this." That purple heart gaze lingered upon Error's form, and almost too soft to hear, Lust murmured, "I can see he doesn't take care of things very well."  _

Error trembled and shook his head frantically, "B-Blue..." he hoarsely got out. "Who's your...?" 

Torn between a desire to not be judged, and the need to stand up for himself, Blue puffed up his chest and squeaked, "Lust."

Swiftly, Error turned and left.

At least, he  _ tried  _ to. Before he could get more than a single step away, a gloved hand caught his arm and tugged just enough to get his attention. Truthfully, Error was glad for that. Despite his size, Blue could pack quite the punch and had more than enough strength hidden away from years of surprisingly intense training. That, and from that fucking huge ass blaster hammer he liked to swing around when things got tough.

Still, as thankful as he was for not having his arm torn off, Error didn't want to be doing this. It was already awkward enough, but it was doubly so now. "Let me go, tiny. You already got your answer, so just... go."

"Error," Blue sighed, "I... you're my friend. You know that, right? Maybe I still can't quite forgive you for kidnapping me, but... even when you swore that you were going to leave me in that strange place to rot, you still came back. You let me go, and... and you didn't really treat me poorly, either. At least, not intentionally, I think. Not just that, but… you came to  _ me  _ for help. I thought that meant something.”

"What's your fucking point?"

"I know making friends isn't easy for you," Blue blurted, smiling sheepishly at the glare sent his way. "And I know that it took me a long time to realize that was really all your kidnapping was- you trying to make friends. But... but I did eventually realize that, and... and now we're friends. And since we're friends, I... I just want you to understand why I like him, Error."

"You want me to like that- that fucking-"

"Whore?" There was disappointment in Blue's expression when he interrupted.

_ "I can see he doesn't take care of things very well." _

_ No matter how hard he tried, Error couldn't get those fucking words out of his head. The thought stuck with him through the rest of his collection duties, and echoed when he passed the profits over to Nightmare. When the king smiled at him and offered a soft kiss as praise for his work, that damn asshole's comment blared in his head like a siren. _

_ He didn't know what the fuck Lust thought he saw, but... but he was wrong, damnit. _

_ "I missed the taste of you," Nightmare murmured against his neck. "Your mouth, those talented tongues... I missed those, too. I've been thinking about them all day, in fact." _

_ Error shuddered, rocking back against the erection he could feel pressing against his shorts. "Yeah? You missed me, huh? _

_ "I keep remembering just how good you feel." _

Lust is wrong, _ Error thought, grunting when Nightmare slammed him back onto his desk just a little too hard, and pushed in just a little too quickly once his shorts were off. Privately, he was thankful that they had sex earlier, or else the sudden stretch would have hurt a lot more.  _ That fucker doesn't know shit.

_ "Ready, lover?" Nightmare questioned, cutting Error's answer short with a sudden thrust. _

Lust is wrong, Lust is wrong...  _ Squeezing his sockets shut, the destroyer reached down and toyed with himself, matching the quick pace the other skeleton fell into. He wasn't quite ready for him to move, but it was fine. It felt good. _

_ Nightmare would take care of him, no matter what Lust seemed to think. _

"Creepy, o-observant bastard?" Error continued, the slightest tremble in his voice hinting at his spiraling emotions. "T-that- that asshole- I... I don't like him, Blue."

_ "...Here, I think you should take this, hon." Lust murmured, a vibrant, pink card pinched between his fingers. "I know it's hard, but... they're good." _

_ "I'm not fucking whoever the hell you're trying to pimp out." _

_ Lust shook his head, chuckling. It was a sad sound. "It's a number for a free service. They work with people like us, and they... they really do help." _

_ Distrustful, Error sent his strings out to snatch up the card. When he glanced down, his vision went red, and his limbs locked. _

_ The last thing he saw before he crashed were those two damning words: _

_ "Domestic Violence" _

Ripping himself from the memory had him snatching his hand away from Blue, too. "D-don't like him," Error repeated. 

Thankfully, Blue was also observant enough to keep his hands to himself. Instead, he crossed those arms over his chest and puffed cheeks out in a stare at the other. "You don't gotta like him! You just... he makes me happy, Error! And... a-and as my friend, that should be important to you!" 

_We aren't friends!_ he almost snapped. Almost. But the time he spent isolated with Negativity... the time where he was _free_ from him. Gods, even the time he was back... Blue occupied a small part of his mind. That small part was always relieved that the revealed-to-be-not-so-innocent- you know what? That _Blue_ was safe. That he wasn't touched by Negativity. That he hadn't gone through anything that Error had, or Lust had... He calmed enough to look up to Blue. "...the fuck were ya even doing in that AU anyways?" 

"I'm a Star!" Blue brightened. "And when Dream and Ink were away, it was just me! I finally got the teleporter thingy working so I was able to visit!" A blush and a soft smile graced his youthful features. "And I met Lust when he was on his day off and... well we just got to talkin' and stuff… At first, it was pretty rare due to his previous profession, but… now, we talk almost everyday! Especially with there being such low levels of conflict with Ink’s return from your… uh, vacation? Sorry." 

_ Idiot. _ Error stared at Blue for a long moment before grumbling. "Listen. If sex-for-brains likes ya, and makes ya happy, and he doesn't hurt you... then I suppose he ain't bad. Not that I care. About any of this." And for good measure, he added, "Dumbass." 

"That's hurtful!" But Blue was bouncing in place, smiling up at him. "I think you two just gotta talk for a bit and you'll know for yourself just how great he is!" 

"Absolutely not."  _ Maybe when Blue isn't around to hear the conversation... _ "I'm not goin' anywhere near that slutty glitter hellscape." 

With a gasp, Blue bounced closer, "Will you be my best man?!" he asked, deciding that the argument wasn’t worth it and skipping over Error’s comment.

Error took several steps back, flustered, "Me?! What the fuck- why the fuck would you want  _ me  _ as your best man?! You're not even engaged!!"

"...Yet!" Blue giggled, the slight hesitation in his words giving away his nerves. "I just... I think it would be neat, having you as my best man."

"What about Ink? Dream?"

"Ink can be the maid of honor, and Dream can stand in for the priest! ...Is it still a priest if you're not religious? Oh stars, I... I'm not sure how any of this works. I... I don't even have a ring yet, or- Error, I'm making a huge mistake here, aren't I?"

_ Yes, _ he was tempted to say, but the destroyer found himself holding the response back. He still didn't care for Lust, and he sure as hell didn't like the thought of Blue doing gross adult things, but...

"...Sometimes..." he began, hesitant, "...Sometimes, you just- need to say fuck it, and chase after what you want."

"It's only been a year..." Worried now, Blue curled his hands in his scarf, looking small. "Papyrus thinks I'm rushing. He... he says that I'm being unrealistic just because I'm... easily excitable. I told him I was sure, but... but what if he's right? What if I'm just jumping into marriage because I- I don't know! Error, I don't know if this- Stars, I'm such a..." With a groan, Blue hung his head. "I must seem like such an idiot."

"Love tends to do that," Error mumbled, instantly mortified by the sappy words. "Look, one year, two... a hundred... time doesn't mean shit, especially with all the resets. If you're happy now, go for it."

And yet, Blue suddenly looked... scared. "The resets..." he whispered. "I- Stars, I forgot about those. They- they aren't as frequent anymore—and Ink dedicated himself to helping out—but- there was one recently and it- I remembered everything quickly this time, but what if next time I forget I'm married? Or-" Fear turned to terror. "I need to talk to Ink now."

"What, why-"

"I... I need..." Blue wavered, terrified. "...If Ink doesn’t really, truly ensure that another reset doesn’t take place... what happens to…” Slowly, Blue dropped his gaze to his stomach, frowning. Almost absent mindedly, he fiddled with the usual scarf he wore, picking at where the fabric pressed against his neck.

_ Oh, fuck, if he’s pregnant and the world resets-  _ “Blue-”

A strange expression crossed the shorter skeleton’s face. “...Thanks for the help, Error, but I need to go.”

“Blue-”

With an odd, shaky smile and a wave, Blue made his escape.

“...I don’t understand him,” Error sighed.

* * *

Foolishly, he thought that... this would end after Negativity got what he wanted. The roaming gaze, the filthy orders... The king had what he wanted now, so what use was he other than an incubator for the other's seed? He- he hated this, almost more than he hated himself for ever agreeing, though he did so out of desperation. At least, that's what he told himself.

"Turn your head," Negativity ordered, his voice a silken croon. 

Silently, he did so.

Teeth pressed against the claim bitten into his neck. It was soft in a mockery of a lover's gentle kiss.

"After we finish..." unwillingly, his toes curled with the next thrust. It felt good. That fact made it feel worse. "...I want to discuss your little trip today. This blooming friendship of yours has... benefits. As such, I have a new goal for you. Understood?"

His response left him as a moan he wished would have been a sob.

"Understood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday the 13th!


	36. Finally, Some Peac- Ah, Nevermind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the poly got a few good months of calm. Of course, the authors can't leave them to their peace.

It was weird having friends, Error decided. Weird in a good way, yeah, but still just… well,  _ weird.  _ For one, he actually had Blue’s number in his phone now. Where he might have just showed up as he pleased or snatched the youngest Star away through a portal, he could just…  _ call  _ if he wanted to chat, or text. Sometimes—most of the time, actually—he didn’t even have to initiate anything, because Blue was more than happy to send him a variety of updates throughout the day. Error didn’t always reply, and when he did his responses weren’t always the greatest, but Blue never stopped. If anything, he seemed accepting of the fact that Error was just...

**Fuckberry**

_ I saw the CUTEST little booties today! _

[Image received, click to load]

_ Well? _

_ What do you think? _

_ Cute huh?! _

**Me**

_ Fuck no _

...being his special self, as Ink liked to put it.

Even if having friends was weird though, Error had to admit that it was… kind of nice. Kind of. He didn’t always appreciate Blue’s attempts at getting him to talk and therefore bond with  _ Lust  _ of all monsters, but… he liked the stupidly happy, smiley little shit. Not just that, but it was kind of nice having a friend that didn’t know the color of his dick, and didn’t have any interest in  _ ever  _ finding out. That was… good. Really good, actually. The less people that knew what kind of sounds he made in bed, the better.

Besides, he was still fucking traumatized at the realization that  _ Blue  _ didn’t just know what sex was, but  _ experienced it.  _ More than once, even.  _ Ugh.  _ Worse than that was the fact that the cheerful Star kept asking him for… advice. Thankfully not on sex, but on  _ baby things. _

**Fuckberry**

_ Error, when does… *it* happen? _

**Me**

_ What _

**Fuckberry**

_ You know… *IT*??? _

**Me**

_ What??? _

**Fuckberry**

_ *IT!!!!* _

**Me**

_ 8====D _

**Fuckberry**

_ … _

_ Error _

_ Something tells me that you don’t know what that is. _

**Me**

_ Ink said its a gun _

_ I’m aiming it at you _

_ TO MAKE YOU DUCKING TELL ME WHAT “IT” IS _

**Fuckberry**

_ Oh! _

_ When do I… _

_ GET FAT?! D: _

**Me**

_ 8===D - - - _

_ I’m shooting you now _

_ For being a dumbass _

**Fuckberry**

_ It’s a valid question! _

_ But nvm that! _

_ We have more serious things to discuss. _

_ Like… _

_ Error, that isn’t you SHOOTING me. _

_ It’s you… *shooting* on me. _

That night, Ink was confined to the sofa and Blue was forced to seek answers from the Internet because Error sure as hell couldn’t talk to him after sending shit like  _ that.  _ For good measure, he didn’t even switch his phone back on for a good two weeks. Unfortunately, that didn’t really matter. Why?

Because Blue wasn’t just  _ his  _ friend now. No, that little shit was sneaky and managed to worm his way into  _ all  _ of their hearts with varying degrees of success, and therefore had the ability to bother him through  _ other people’s  _ phones. Not just that, but he dragged Sci’s poor ass along with him. And that? That was… kind of fucking weird too. Blue was…  _ Blue,  _ and therefore easy to like, but Sci? Error didn’t trust the fucker as far as he could throw him, and he was sure that he wasn’t exactly the odd one out when it came to those feelings. Cross was sensible and naturally wary of most outsiders, and Geno… Well, there wasn’t much that didn’t unnerve his brother nowadays.

Still, there was… a hesitant friendship there between all of them and the scientist. Surprisingly enough, Reaper got along with him the best and was usually the first to greet him when Sci stopped by for one reason or another. Geno seemed to prefer Blue’s impenetrable cheer, but it wasn’t exactly rare to catch him hovering nearby whenever the glasses-clad skeleton began spewing gross intellectual shit all over the place. Once, the fucker even got Geno to talk to him for a whole hour without the glitch so much as flinching… until Sci brought up the fact that he was overdue for a checkup and unintentionally began a game of “get Geno out from under the bed.”

Ugh, Error loved his younger brother—he did—but he was really starting to hate that “game,” mostly because he could  _ see  _ the interest sparkling in Merciful’s eyes whenever she saw her mother crawling into a new hiding space. The twins weren’t quite ready to crawl just yet, but once they were…. Well, he had a feeling they were going to need to put up a shitton of those weird ass baby gates to keep Merci from playing hide and seek with her mom. 

Now, if only they could get  _ Goth  _ to stop joining in… 

Ugh, whatever. Let the kid have his fun. Stars know it’s a miracle that Goth and his older sibling weren’t completely fucked up by their absence. Nah, they were just… a little fucked. Reasonably fucked, even. Even so, they were… they were good kids. Really good kids, and if Goth was happy to believe that Geno’s hiding episodes really were a game, then let him.

Error just… wanted their kids to keep their smiles. If he and the others struggled, then so be it. The kids were the ones who really deserved to be happy after being abandoned for a little more than half a year. Fuck, they- they should probably do something for the two now that he thought about it. A day out, or a vacation, or- or  _ something.  _ Just… anything to reward the brats for being brave and waiting for them all to come back home.

Oh, but they would have to wait until summer vacation, huh? Because  _ that  _ was a thing now that the little abominations were in school now. Heh, and wasn’t  _ that  _ a whole new fucking experience? Now, the playroom doubled as a classroom. Sci did most of the work—which is probably what won him most of his friendship points—but it was agreed that they would all pitch in. As such, everyone in the house did a little bit of something. Geno helped with reading and writing, Ink unsurprisingly fought Cross for the position of art teacher and won, Dream and Reaper did a surprisingly good job when it came to history, and Cross was the hottest fucking P.E teacher Error had ever seen. The dork even got himself a uniform consisting of a purple track suit that did his ass wonders and a shiny whistle. 

As for Error himself, he kind of just did… whatever. Mostly, he helped with math because numbers… well, they were easy. He wasn’t all that great when you added shapes and shit, but Sci ensured him that he was more than equipped to help the kids get where they needed to be for the next few years.

Overall, things were… good. Miraculously, there weren’t really any issues. Negativity still loomed as a threat in the background, but… but he would probably  _ always  _ be a threat, somehow. For now though? He was keeping his distance, and even Dream’s struggles in Reapertale weren’t really the result of any nefarious plans, just headache-inducing politics. They were living their lives as peacefully as they could until, one day, Ink shared the stunned realization that- that they had officially been home for seven months; the same amount of time they spent away. Then, a day went by and they were officially home  _ longer  _ than they had been captured. And then, another day went by, and another, and- and more. And it was  _ amazing.  _ Things were really, truly great.

And then, Goth came into his abilities in the middle of a lesson.

"Mama, how come Mari feels funny?"

At the question, Sci paused his lecture to glance curiously at the youngest of his two students. He was aware that the hatchling wasn’t an empath, but… that question was strange—knowing in the same odd way that Ink spoke when he was  _ sure  _ that what he was saying was true. 

_ I wish I had room in my jacket for a notebook…  _ he thought, placing a hand on the obvious swell of his stomach. His usual coat had to be replaced for one he found in a maternity store. This one had much smaller pockets.  _ Shame, this seems interesting…  _ and useful, given that it was his job to keep notes on things like this.

"What do you mean?" Geno questioned slowly, frowning from what had become his usual spot in the children’s playroom; a folding chair tucked into the corner where he could observe without distracting them. “Gothy, sweetheart, can you explain? I don’t get it.”

Goth frowned intensely and shot a disgruntled look at him, the expression clearly stating that he thought the questions aimed at him were dumb. "Mari feels  _ funny,  _ mom.” Oh, so it was ‘mom’ now, was it? Goth usually only dropped his cuter ways of referring to him when he was being sassy. “Why? I… I don’t like it. It feels like- like when I got spots and everything made everything bad." 

_ When he got spots…?  _ Oh, Geno knew what Goth was referring to: His experience with monsterpox. It wasn’t something he was aware that skeleton children were in danger of, but Goth’s experience with the disease was stressful. At the time, he struggled to keep anything down but was too young to properly understand what he was experiencing. All he was able to do at the time was hold his stomach and cry about feeling funny—completely and utterly nauseous and itchy all around. Overall, that week of his son’s life had been a very messy, very terrifying seven days for what used to be their little family of three. 

"Give me a second, honey. I’m going to go get your papa Ink, okay?”

Just a few doors down in the studio he was happy to share with Cross, Ink was easily sought out and led back to their makeshift classroom. Once there, he took a moment to listen to Goth’s claim and nodded, spreading his senses out wide before narrowing them down to focus on the small form of his youngest son. He could sense him clear as day, napping alongside his sister in peace. “Marigold seems fine, Gothy." 

"No, he doesn't! You just- you’re doing magic wrong!" the child sassed back. "He feels funny! He feels  _ bad! _ Like… like tummy aches and itchy spots and- and like being really, really cold ‘cause it’s snowing outside but Jam stole all your blankets!”

“I didn’t steal them, you pushed them off the bed!” Paperjam protested.

“Put your argument on hold, you two,” Ink said, cutting in before the kids could start a fight. “Goth, please, try to explain it a little better? I don’t feel anything bad from Mari, honey, so I need to understand what you think you feel.”

“I don’t  _ think,  _ I  _ know!  _ He-” Getting upsetting, Goth slapped a hand down on the table he was seated at, his voice rising in pitch. “He’s wrong! Mari is really, really  _ wrong!” _

"Wrong...?" Geno whispered. Paperjam, passed their brief moment of annoyance at Goth, sent concerned glances bouncing between each of the adults.

Goth nodded rapidly, frowning. "He... he feels..." It was clear that the small, winged skeleton was trying his best to put the feeling into words, but he couldn't seem to find any that fit that he didn’t already use. Frustrated, he kicked the leg of the table he sat at and simply repeated, with an air of urgency, "He feels wrong!"

Concerned, Ink stepped away from his spot against the wall and made his way out of the playroom, closely followed by Geno. "He... he seems fine..." the artist murmured, peering down at the tiny, slumbering form of his youngest son when they reached the nursery—which was just Geno and Reaper’s room without the bed. Now, the two tend to take over Cross’ while the guard, always adorably violet, bunked with Dream. "Gothy, honey, Mari is okay. He's just sleeping."

"No! No, he- it's a bad feeling, daddy!  _ Mama _ , it's no good! I promise!"

"I... I don't see anything wrong..." Anxious, Geno carefully reached in and pulled Marigold into his arms. _ He's just... resting. _

A little concern wasn't bad of course, but, by now, Geno was confident that he knew what signs to look for that told of any illnesses on Marigold's end. Unfortunately, the little thing proved prone to colds and seemed to fall ill at the drop of the hat, but he usually got fussy when that happened; loud, too. While Merci got quiet, Mar had a tendency to shriek and squirm and wail his little lungs off until he was blue in the face. There wasn't any of that now though.

_ But... but Goth wouldn't lie about something like this just because he was bored...  _

Sure, Goth tried to get out of class whenever he could, but... but he was a smart little guy. Paperjam too. On some level, the two knew that Mari and Merci's health wasn't something to joke about, especially not when it worried their parents so much.

Now unnerved, Geno turned his gaze back to Mar. "...I'm sorry, baby..." he whispered, adjusting his hold on the tiny child as a newly freed hand came up and tapped Marigold on the cheek. "I’m going to need you to wake up, okay? So… wake up, honey. Come on, wake up..."

It took a few more tries until Marigold squirmed and whined pitifully. Goth sat back against his chair, staring intensely at the child, even as Ink and Geno checked over him. With a murmured request, Sci also gave the infant a quick little checkup with what few tools he had stored in his inventory.

Nobody could figure out what was wrong. Except for what seemed to be a persistent sleepiness, Mar seemed… fine. Normal. 

Still, Geno whispered, "I'm going to go take him to Dream, just- just in case.”

Goth squirmed in his seat as he watched Geno leave. "I... I wasn't lyin'..." he said, shoulders curling somewhat. 

"It's okay Gothy. We'll figure it out. Why don't you focus back on the lesson Mr. Sci's teaching you?"

Despite the reassurance offered to him, Goth still seemed displeased. Thankfully, he didn't put up a fight, and instead obediently turned back towards the portable whiteboard that Sci had a series of simple equations scrawled across.

Not wanting to distract the children any further, Ink crept downstairs into the living room where he could monitor everyone's emotions without being seen. After second thought however, he made his way back upstairs. "Hey there, honey," he whispered, glancing down at where Merci slept next to Mar's abandoned spot in the crib.  _ She always acts up when Mar isn't feeling well...  _ but the youngest twin was silent now as she slept.

Peaceful.

_ What is Goth seeing that we're not...? _ There had to be something going over their heads, unless it really just was the kiddo going to extremes to get out of his lesson...

"I don't like this, honey," Ink murmured, kneeling down to run a finger over Merciful's cheek. "Your papa can't sense anything wrong, but... your big- _ big _ brother doesn't tell mean lies. Do you think we should be worried?"

His only response was peaceful, even breathing, and drooling.

"Yeah, I guess we'll just have to wait and see."


	37. The Dream Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dream has a Core conversation, or a conversation with Core.

By the end of the day, everyone in the household was well aware of Goth’s concerning statement regarding his younger brother, and it showed. Similar to when Merci experienced her first terrifying asthma attack, there was a solemn air overpowering the atmosphere of their home that lasted well into the next day. It didn’t matter that Death himself admitted to being unable to feel anything of concern from Marigold, because Goth was just so _insistent_ , and he had the backing of two empaths to prove that he wasn’t lying. Whatever the little, winged skeleton was feeling, it wasn’t made up for attention. Goth wasn’t really even the type for that to begin with.

All this and more weighed on Dream’s mind as he sat through a meeting held within The First World, now commonly known as Reapertale—something that usually amused him, on a good day. It felt… a little ironic. So many people within the realm shunned Reaper for what he was, and yet the multiverse knew the world only by Death’s preferred name. It was poetic justice at its finest, but it wasn’t enough to make Dream smile. Not now.

_I should be home, helping the others keep an eye on Mar,_ he thought, a smile glued to his face as the conversation around him meandered. He wasn’t even sure what they were discussing anymore. Something about the bid for the throne, but… _Stars, all we’ve done for the last few **months** is go in circles._

A small motion caught his attention, and his supposedly attentive gaze flickered slightly to the left. Negativity, dressed finely in intricate robes, met his eyes with a calm smile. In a subtle motion, he offered the youngest of the primordials a mocking wave with a tendril. 

_...And something tells me that all this stalling is purposeful._ Well aware of the many eyes watching him curiously, Dream softened his bland smile into something sweeter. While doing so, he offered his so-called brother a polite nod, as if he _didn’t_ want to lunge across the table and strangle the life from him. I hate you.

Negativity’s smile quirked into a brief smirk. _I know, little brother._ The picture of a regal king, the emerald eyed skeleton straightened and lifted a hand to draw attention to himself. Immediately, the room fell into silence, and only partly due to the fear the man inspired in others. 

“May I interject with a suggestion?”

“...Go on, My Lord,” Asgore allowed.

A thankful nod. “My friends, we’ve been at this for quite some time, haven’t we? A few hours is but seconds to our kind, but perhaps we could do with a breather of sorts? I say we part ways for today.”

“A decision has to be made! We’ve been hesitating on this for _months,_ damnit!” War shouted, making her impatience known yet again. Although loyal enough to Asgore to protest him losing his throne, the goddess was frustrated with the lack of progress made in deciding his replacement, though she herself admitted to being unsure where her favor lied. “We have these meetings every week, _and nothing!_ It’s time to finally decide!”

“What’s another day added to all those months, hm?” Negativity shot back, calm in the face of her ire. 

Behind that mask of his, Dream knew he was amused. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if Negativity truly wanted the throne. While the additional power would serve Negative well, there was never any annoyance at the council’s dallying around. Instead, he was often entertained, as if content to have Dream’s time wasted even if it meant that his own was lost. It infuriated him.

_I have things to do._ He had duties to his family, and an important goal.

Palette needed to be brought home. He needed to be _found,_ and Dream was getting so, _so_ close. He knew he was, if only because he was running out of places to search for his son.

_You could ask Cree for help…_ his traitorous thoughts suggested, made up of all the parts of him that still felt so alien at times—the parts of Positivity that didn’t perfectly align with who he was as Dream. _He would help you in a heartbeat._

Firmly ignoring those thoughts, Dream raised his hand in favor of continuing the meeting tomorrow when a vote went around the room. Still the perfect picture of all the expectations held for him, he smiled and wished everyone—including Negativity—a good day before taking his leave. He didn’t rush, even though he wanted to. Doing so would only work against him, in the end.

_I’m not expected home for another hour…_ Which meant that, as guilty as he felt, he had time to search some more before returning to Mar. _There’s not much I can do, anyways,_ he reasoned, though he couldn’t trick himself into feeling better about the decision. Ultimately, he was acting selfishly here, and there was no way to deny that. _I’m sorry, Mari._

The others trickled passed him and went their separate ways. Few words were exchanged, though their emotions offered far more insight to the inner thoughts of the council than they would have preferred—something that was helpful in this long, terribly drawn out battle for the throne. At the moment however, that silence was a little lonely. Dream had places to be, yes, but… Once, many of these deities were considered his friends. Now, they were little more than strangers turned pawns; pieces on a gameboard that he and Negativity sought to maneuver for their own benefit, all too aware of the prize looming over their heads.

_Maybe I should try harder to strengthen our bonds…_ The Posi of old would have invited them out for tea, or offered them a sweetened roll. _I used to try so hard just to make friends I didn’t end up keeping._ The thought was saddening. 

Before he knew it, Dream stood alone in one of the many halls of the castle. It was in the silence that a certain grey child showed themself again, looking far more disappointed than Dream could recall ever seeing them. “You still haven’t taken my advice.” 

The memory of their interaction was so long ago. The only thing that felt noteworthy that the primordial could remember was the intense frustration his talks with Core had left him with. “You mean about the... swimming? Because I swam. It did nothing.” 

“There’s a special place for you to swim, Lord Positivity,” the child chidded, frowning at him judgmentally, like he should have known what the hell they were talking about. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Dream murmured, intending to leave it at that. He had better things to do than suffer a headache as a result of talking to Core any longer than needed. And if they weren’t going to be helpful? Then there really wasn’t any need at all. “Feel free to stop by to say hello to Cree if you haven’t yet. Just don’t do it when Geno is around.” _Or me,_ he added silently. 

With all the grace of a bulldozer, Core ran right over most of his sour reponse.“You’ve had time to waste in those pointless meetings, but none to decipher what I mean? Honestly, you could’ve been doing _both_ , then at least the meetings would have been useful to you.” 

_They’re right…_ irritated, Dream scowled, “You could’ve just told me-” 

“Yes, I could have,” Core nodded. “But how often do people ever listen to my words? Well, you used to once, but you were kinder back then. At least, you used to let yourself be kind. Now, you went and became all jaded, and you think you have to hide your real heart away in order to be strong when your _real_ strength was always in your heart.” 

To that, Dream didn’t have an answer. Well, he did, but Core suddenly seemed all caught up in him being kind, and the words on the tip of his tongue certainly _weren’t._ And why bother getting into an argument anyways? It just felt like more time being wasted. “Goodbye, Core.” He turned away. 

The initial notes of a pleasant tune had the primordial pausing in confusion. _They’re… humming…?_ It seemed… odd. To mention going for a swim, to be vague and frustrating, then to be… 

Wait… 

Was… was Core humming a waltz-

_Giggling, Posi smiled as hands glided up from his waist to his own and held them, swinging their arms lightly. Soon, a handsome crooning voice floated from Cree’s chest, and he dropped one of his hands to wrap an arm around Posi’s waist again, tugging him into a circle. Their feet just barely missed each other, and with each stumble Posi almost made, Cree caught and corrected him._

_“What is this?” Posi giggled again, bright eyes soon gazing up at Cree instead of down at their distracting feet. “It’s… fun!”_

_“I’m calling it ‘dancing’,” Cree grinned back, interrupting his own song just to answer the younger. “It’s all the passion of a fight, without actual fighting! It’s… a peaceful fight!”_   
_“You can fight peacefully?” Posi blinked._

_“Yeah… you remember War? Her area of expertise is… there’s a certain beauty to it, but it’s so gruesome that it takes away from all the flowing movement. Dancing won’t be like that. It’ll have just as much skill, but it’ll be fun, and…” a wink, then a grin that was far too goofy to be as sly as it tried for, “...much more Positive. An activity for celebrations or just to show excitement!”_

_“Dancing…” Posi repeated dreamily, stepping closer to Cree, and enjoying the immediate subtle snuggle he received. “I like it.”_

_“I thought you would,” Cree chuckled, gazing down at him fondly, a twinkle in his kaleidoscope eyes. “I made it with you in mind, after all.”_

_“You did?” He questioned, delighted. Cree was oh so very generous with his gifts, but their frequency never dulled the excitement Positivity often faced upon receiving one._

_“You don’t care for fighting, so…” There was so much to read from the other primordial’s expression, but his fondness was so overpowering, it would have been impossible to miss the affection. “Now, there’s a version of it you won’t have to feel bad about taking part in.”_

_“You spoil me.”_

_Cree twirled him out, away. As he did so, the world around them seemed to spin—their private, peaceful little world. More than anything Cree ever gifted him with, it was that which proved just how spoiled Positivity truly was the most. An entire paradise crafted just for him, tucked away in Cree’s very own-_

“...Sanctuary,” Positivity breathed, breaking free of his memories to find himself weak with the force of the realization. 

Still before him, Core smiled. “There’s far less certainties in the world than most will ever truly realize, but that place…? I can’t recall a single path that doesn’t have a small world within a world, full of greenery, sunshine, and-”

“A very special waterfall splashing into a _lake.”_ Take a swim, they said to him so many months ago. Never once did the suggestion rouse his memories, but- but now that Core’s humming had, it was so _clear._ He and Cree would spend hours there, enjoying the eternal sunshine and the coolness of the water. “That’s…” Breathless as he was, his laughter left him as a wheeze. “That’s where I need to go!”

“Is it?” Core murmured, much less sure than Positivity.

Their uncertainty made him falter. “What do you mean by that? _You’re_ the one that told me to head there!”

“I did, but that was months ago, m’lord.” Sighing, the eternal child crossed their arms. “Things change. New paths have shown themselves, and…” Core shrugged. “I don’t mean to be difficult. In your heart, I’m sure you know this. But I’ll never be completely certain of the path we truly travel, therefore I cannot offer much. What I can say, however, is that you may be very, very late. Too late. Or, you may be just on time, even early. I won’t know until you do, unfortunately. So, take my advice this time, Lord Positivity: _Go for that swim._ It may just very well save two birds from a stone.”

As much as he wanted to run off in search of his greatest treasure, Positivity stayed in place, curious. The misspoken phrase was what caught his attention. “Don’t you mean that it’ll kill two birds with one stone?”

Core gazed into the distance. “...Much as it frustrates me when you and Lord Creativity ignore my advice, I like you two. Maybe it’s because it’s written into my very being, or perhaps it’s just because you’re actually likeable. Either way, I do consider you two friends.” When they looked up, Core’s voids were particularly unnerving. Knowing in a way that discomforted even Dream. “Therefore, I really, truly hope from the bottom of my heart that, no, I _don’t_ mean the correct little phrase. I much rather we travel the path where feathers aren’t stained with blood.”

“...Something is going to happen, isn’t it?”

Core smiled grimly. “Something is always going to happen. It just doesn’t always have to be bad. But go on, Lord Positivity. _Find him.”_

_Find him… find him…_

Walking into the sanctuary, untouched by the hundreds of years that passed, was more intense than expected. Nostalgia had Dream stopping every few steps to collect himself as he tried to not have a complete breakdown. Additionally, he often had to pause just to work through the flood of memories that rushed him every few moments—memories that happened by the cherry tree over there, and by the planter box there, and under the other canopy, and-

And _there,_ right by the lake.

He made it to the shore of the lake and stared down at the clear water. Despite the multicolored liquid splashing from the waterfall, the lake itself remained crystalline in it’s clarity. During hot days, the water was warm and comforting, and during cold days, the water steamed like a hot spring. It was… well, very obviously magic. It was creative too, but of course it was. Cree made it. 

It almost hurt Dream’s heart to consider what he’d hidden beneath that lake, quite literally under Cree’s nose, though he was sure that the artist had never returned here after their split. And if he had? Then Posi was equally certain that he remained unaware of the precious secret that only he and his evil brother knew of. Stars, and what a thought that was: That, all these years, one of them could have stumbled upon this place, and- and what he had hidden. _Who_ he had hidden, waiting for him in a peaceful slumber.

_My baby… my precious little star…_ “I’m coming for you, Palette.” And yet, he didn’t move.

Dream… didn’t _have_ to go… He could leave the secret there—his son. Their son. Keep him hidden away until they could ensure that Negativity wouldn’t harm their family ever again The thought was… tempting, but something about his conversation with Core had him shedding his fine clothing until he stood nearly bare, and diving into the lake. 

The uncertainty in the immortal child’s voice. The matter-of-fact tone when they mentioned the fluidity at which time changed nearly everything… the uncertainty they constantly suffered from—the same uncertainty that would haunt Dream unless he finally saw this journey through... 

Eyes burning from the lake’s water, dove down further, squinting against the growing darkness until he found what he was looking for. The faintest of reflections that told of an underground cave. One that he resurfaced in and collapsed face first into the soft dirt, panting. 

“...Positivity, you idiot,” he groaned, shuddering on the cool cave floor. That water wasn’t normal, he knew. Well, _now_ he knew—remembered. All that color pouring in… the lake itself may have remained clear, but that didn’t mean it was left untouched, and now he shuddered as emotion dripped down his form. “Cree… Cree used to filter the water for me, so I wouldn’t become overwhelmed…” he slowly recalled.

But when the eldest of the primordials left him, he stopped. Overtime, those deceiving crystalline waters became tainted by the paints, and now? After _centuries_ of being left to its own devices? It was a cesspool of pure, unfiltered emotion without Cree around to dilute the paint’s effects. Stars, swimming through it all had been difficult before, but it was definitely worse now.

And yet, it was the same raw, liquid emotion he shook off him now that made the cave such a wonderful hiding place for Palette. Positivity wasn’t immune to the affects of the lake—shown by the trembling he tried to ignore—but an outsider would end up far worse than him if they tried entering the lake unprotected. Here, Palette was safe, and had been for hundreds of years-

His breath caught in his throat, the residual lake water cooling his bones flashing a sorrowful blue as his gaze lifted. There was a narrow “hall” that led to a makeshift room in the cave. From blurry memories that grew clearer overtime, he knew that the darkness he could see should have been lit by glittering, glowing crystals—the same ones ensuring his son’s peaceful, undisturbed rest. The… the crystals that should have been doing so, at least. But it was dark. Too dark.

_Is… is Pally afraid of the dark…?_ He didn’t remember.

Weak with simmering terror, he pushed himself onto unsteady feet and stumbled forward, uncaring of the slick, blue footsteps he left behind that whitened with every uncertain step towards the darkness. “Pal… Pally…” he rasped, tasting tainted water when his grin parted for a nervous breath. _Something’s wrong, something is terribly, horribly-_

With a well practiced gesture, he pushed his magic into the confined space of the cave. Broken crystals lit with gold. And partially encased by them? A bed sat, full of nothing but dust and rumpled sheets.

Swiftly, the water dripping from his form turned black with despair as Dream crumbled to the ground with a broken scream that might have resembled a name if it weren’t so garbled with anguish.

His baby was _gone._


	38. A Colorful Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dream and Reaper have a little bit of a heart-to-heart.

When Dream returned, he knew that he was going to need to offer up an excuse he didn’t have as to why he was so late. Rather, he was going to need to give everyone an explanation he felt like keeping to himself. And yet, he was well aware that everything he didn’t want to admit was scrawled all over his face in complete and utter misery. It was seen in the flush on his cheeks, so much like a blush yet caused from tears, not flattery. Furthermore, those tears still had yet to dry. No matter how many times he wiped at his sockets, despair spilled out to follow the damp path down his face set by their predecessors. If seen, there would be no denying his sorrow.

Despite knowing this, he didn’t shy away from entering his home once he finally mustered up the energy to rise from that cold, damp cave. His robes were incredibly wrinkled and wet from his second swim, but he didn’t care. There were no appearances to keep within their household beyond the masks they all tended to don when they wanted to hide their troubles, but Dream was tired of hiding. After everything, he was just… just _tired._

 _My son is gone._ And he was going to have to tell the others. 

Not just that, but he was- he was going to have to explain that he even had a son to begin with, and how would that go? Error would probably be upset, for one. Dream _knew_ how fragile his confidence was, and how direly he needed to feel important, even though no action could ever change the fact that Error most definitely was. But learning that he wasn’t the one to produce Ink’s first child would most definitely hurt some part of him, and Dream didn’t want to be responsible for that. And stars, _Ink._

 _I… I don’t know how to tell him…_ Unfortunately, this wasn’t even new. For years Dream struggled with the secret that was their son, always wanting to reach out whenever Palette hit a new milestone, but constantly finding a dozen different reasons not to. He couldn’t even blame that on Negativity either because, while his once-brother definitely played a role in his uncertainty, the older primordial was rarely even around. No, it had almost always just been the little duo made up of him and his son. Palette and Posi, all on their own.

 _I never stopped wishing Cree was right there with us, though…_ It was easier when Palette was just a baby, but the older he got, the more Cree could be seen in him. _Although, I did think he would take after me height wise…_ The little thing had been so, well, _little_ in his toddler years, after all. “My little baby, not so little anymore…” he whispered, chuckling wetly as he thought back to the little marks he would make on the wall to measure the toddler’s height as he grew.

Realizing that he was doing little aside from crying to himself on the threshold of their home, Dream did his best to shake himself free of memories that hurt to recall and gave another futile wipe at his face. Luckily enough, no one else was in the living room, and the kitchen seemed quiet enough, so his obvious tearfulness wasn’t noticed… _yet_.

Then, as if sensing his wobbly optimism, Reaper drifted down the stairs, half twisted around to call out over his shoulder, “Call me if _anything_ changes, okay? I mean it! If- if Mar so much as _sneezes,_ call me. I’ll be back before you know it.”

 _Run_ , his instincts suggested, but Dream held firm, offering a smile that missed its mark by a mile when Reaper turned towards him. “Heading out to work? Isn’t it a little l-late for that?” he asked, cursing the way his voice broke near the end of his inquiry. 

“Death doesn’t exactly take a vacation, even if he wants to…” worriedly, Reaper floated closer to him. “Dreamboat?” 

Unwillingly, Dream felt himself tensing. _Here we go._

“Want to have some coffee with me?” 

Surprised, Dream merely nodded and, soon enough, the two settled on the back patio with a cup each, though Dream could only curl forward and stare into the murky depths of his beverage. Coffee, because of course it was.

On the other side of the mini table, Reaper took little sips of his own drink and caught himself needing to tear his gaze away from his sad little boyfriend more than once. The urge to not cause any extra stress for Dream kept him silent, but his concern had been brought about by those tearful eyes. Still, he tried his best to keep his worry under control, though what Dream could sense from the god wasn’t something he knew how to hide. 

“I’ll be fine, Reaper,” the words Dream whispered came out in a way that splintered the god’s heart. 

“Of course!” he chirped. And promptly brought the cup to his grin again, now very much aware of the way his gaze was fixed firmly on the literal golden boy of their poly. 

They stayed like that for several minutes. Enough time that Reaper pouted at his empty cup before Dream finally murmured something too quick for him to understand. “I’m sorry Dreamy, you have ass on what?” 

That earned him a soft, choked sounding chuckle. “I have a _son,”_ he clarified. 

_Oh_ … “Um, we’re… acknowledging that now?” Reaper asked, just wanting to be sure as he thought back to his curt conversation with Dream all those months ago. 

_Dream’s sudden shift into anger, the way negativity flowed from his sockets until the golden primordial looked so very much like the fiend that haunted their fears._ It was his small boyfriend who insisted Reaper keep his “Palette” a secret, and so he did his best to respect the other’s wishes, despite feeling the burden of his promise weighing him down everyday, much like the anklet he still wore. 

The golden eyed skeleton chuckled quietly, little heart put into the sound. “I… I forgot you knew already,” he admitted.

“I don’t blame you. A lot has happened since then…” Both glanced at the house, though only Dream could really sense Marigold. Thankfully. “Did… did something happen, Dream? Have you…” the god faltered. “You’re crying again.”

“My son is dead, Reaper,” Dream explained, because that was really all he had to say for the taller man to understand the reason for his tears. “My- my _baby-”_ his voice shook alongside his frame. 

Horrified, Reaper simply stared in response, frozen. Somewhat desperately, he tried to sift through his memories for anyone that looked even remotely like Dream, but it was difficult. If he remembered every life he ever stole away, then surely he’d be insane by now. Not just that, but- but Palette was Dream’s son as _Positivity._ For all he knew, he could have taken the boy’s life centuries ago and not have known it. And if not him, then Respite may have done so just as blissfully unaware as Reaper would have been.

“I don’t blame you,” Dream choked out.

Reaper swallowed thickly, feeling his own eyes burn. “He was your _son_ though, Dream. I- I know it’s not- things didn’t- he was your son, and therefore he would have been _ours_ , too. But he- _I-”_

This was his greatest fear, Reaper realized. What Dream was experiencing now was everything he was terrified of feeling in regards to his own flesh and blood, and the child that became his own through marriage. His own boyfriend was living out the fate that Reaper himself feared the most, _and it was his fault._

“Dream, I-”

“It. Is not. Your fault.” The guardian insisted, a fresh wave of tears spilling over. “It- _it’s mine,”_ Dream admitted, and just speaking those words twisted his very soul. “I- I left him for too long. _I left him,_ and now- now he’s-” Unable to say it again, he fell into what would have been silence had it not been for his pitiful state.

Reaper squirmed in his seat for a moment before taking hold of Dream’s cup to set it aside. Soon after, his own empty mug joined it on the little table between them, and Reaper floated before Dream, though not enough that his eyes wouldn’t rise to meet him. Larger hands encircled the trembling little digits that so desperately wanted to hide the shame and sorrow that flowed from his cheeks. 

“How were you to know what would have or could have happened, Dream…?” 

“I sh-should have…! I-!” 

Firmly, Reaper repeated his question. “How were you supposed to know something like this?” 

Stubbornly clinging to his guilt, Dream remained silent. Reaper wouldn’t just let him sit and wallow in his misery though, and repeated his question yet again. And… and he did have a point, even if Dream didn’t want to admit it. How should he have known that something so terrible would occur? He hid his baby away to protect him, and… and…

Stars, most of what he knew back then was built upon lies and misunderstandings. Even now, he still wasn’t entirely certain of what he actually knew in regards to his own past, both because so many memories were still missing, and because even more of them were tainted by manipulation. All he could be certain of was that he loved Cree, and he was once a mother to a beautiful baby boy who grew up-

But… wait. No. The Palette of his memories was… Dream hesitated, then frowned as his mind raced back into the past only for him to find that he wasn’t entirely sure just how old Palette was when he left him. Was he only a few years old? Was he just old enough that his height made him seem older? Was he nearly an adult, capable of taking care of himself? Truly, the primordial couldn’t separate his memories from his old imagination, and that sent fear running through his spine. How much more of a shitty parent could he be, that he couldn’t recall his only son’s age before his death? 

It was a wail that escaped Dream next, “He should be alive…!” and in his center, he could have sworn that he was right. It wasn’t just a “should be” but a definite “is”. _He is alive._

He… he couldn’t be dead, right? Palette was the son of gods among gods, and Positivity’s protections had never failed him before. Why would they now? Why… why would his son be dead when it would hurt Dream most, when he survived the same thing countless times before? At that thought, his sorrow faded into a numb silence, and his stare fell blankly just over Reaper’s skull. 

_He’s alive. He… the dust on the bed surely wasn’t enough to be from a monster. Not from a child or adult… maybe from a baby, but he definitely wasn’t so little anymore. We- we even used to mark his growth, and… Core said… to ‘find him’. They didn’t specify if he would be alive or dead, but… would I even be able to find him if he were dead…?_

While some uncertainty still remained, an unusual flare of determination set the primordial’s jaw, even as his emotions still trembled between it and sorrow. “He isn’t dead…” he whispered to Reaper, more to hear the words for himself. He… needed this. He needed something to… to hope for. Something _else_ , besides Marigold’s health, of course. A little louder, he repeated, “He isn’t dead, and I’ll find him.” 

Reaper’s concern didn’t even seem to faze Dream, which only made that same concern grow. _Oh Dreamboat,_ he thought, heart aching for the other. _I… I hope you’re right about this, hon…_ because if Dream wasn’t? If Palette really was dead…?

It would **crush** him, and Reaper wasn’t sure how you were supposed to come back from that kind of pain.

\------

Parting with Dream was difficult, but Reaper suffered the effects of a prolonged absence from work long enough to understand that, sometimes, it was better to get his duties over with sooner rather than later. That didn’t make leaving the other skeleton behind any easier though, especially when Dream shrugged off his suggestion of heading inside to join the others. He insisted he would be fine now that his hope was restored, but… still, Reaper couldn’t help but feel bad, or worried. 

_I feel like he slipped right into denial…_ and in doing so, Dream made him promise yet again to keep his son a secret. He… didn’t really _want_ to say yes. What else could he do though? While Reaper _knew_ that this was a terrible thing to keep hidden, it wasn’t his place to reveal something Dream was so set on keeping hidden. For all he knew, doing so would only cause more harm once everything came out.

“Everything is always so… _difficult.”_

It never used to be like this. Things used to be simple. Then again, that was really only when their relationship itself was a lot simpler, and thus easier to understand. When it was just him and Geno, they only had their worries to consider. Now? It was their issues, and Dream’s, Ink’s, Error’s… and now Cross’, too. It… complicated things. That being said, Reaper was still incredibly happy. Complicated didn’t mean that things were bad, after all. There was just a lot more to juggle than he ever expected to find himself trying to manage. But with a family like his? 

It was worth it.

“I just… wish I could help more…” he sighed. 

Though the best way he could think to help them now was to help himself. Out this damned persistent migraine. Gods he could hear his husbands now… _It isn’t selfish to take care of yourself first!_ Of course that earned a little chuckle from himself. _We’re hypocrites. All of us… we don’t give ourselves enough time and space for any true self-care. It could be because of our worries over the kids but…_ it wasn’t fair to try to assign blame to them. 

Reaper shook himself from those thoughts before they could truly fester. He really had to focus. Do his job and get home as fast as he can. Maybe… just maybe he could come up with ways to help out more. 

So when he turned forward and found himself bumping into a small child with starry eyes that reminded him far too much of the boyfriend having a breakdown and the husband with the art block, Reaper… froze. All of his racing thoughts came to a sudden halt at once, and he simply just… stared at the little thing, because they—he, it seemed—truly was small. _Gothy used to be that height not too long ago…_ but while the thought of his son warmed his heart, the comparison left him with a chill.

Why was a child that young apparently all alone, let somewhere like this? As far as he could tell, the area he stopped in for a small break wasn’t inhabited. So, why did he suddenly have company on his hands?

“...Uh, hello?” he greeted, wary.

Wide eyed, the little thing smiled hesitantly. There was a teary sheen to those oh so familiar eyes. “Hi…”

Reaper smiled, the expression stiff as he fought his instincts to comfort a clearly upset child. _This… this isn’t right._ This really, really wasn’t right. It was- it was a trick. Probably? “Whatcha doing out here, little guy? Shouldn’t you be with your parents?”

At that, that bright gaze overflowed. With a small, hiccuped sob, the too-familiar child nodded. “Chasin’ mama,” he explained while simultaneously explaining nothing whatsoever. “Found him, but- but too fast! So still chasin’!”

 _Chasing…?_ “Uh, why’re you here with me then, kiddo?” Uncomfortable, Reaper discreetly drifted back a few paces, though he stopped when the little one pointed at him with a snot-sticky hand. “Um…?”

“Mama,” Was all the child said, still pointing.

And when Reaper followed that pudgy finger, he found himself staring down at a glittering sheen smeared across his sleeve. The remnants of Dream’s tears, he knew. But… but as a skeleton, tears weren’t _just_ tears. They were made up of… _magic_ , and all magic carried some sort of trace from it’s user.

“Mama was sad…” The small, teary-eyed skeleton whispered. There was certainty in his voice as he kept his gaze on those dried, shimmering tears. And when he spoke again, that same certainty remained. “He- he was blue. Blue is a sad color.”

 _Empath,_ Reaper realized. And then:

“...Palette?”


	39. Of Art, Science, and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cross struggles, science rules and we get a smidge of intimacy.

Cross stared intently at the canvas. He had been listening to Ink talk him through whatever it was that they decided to paint together, in an effort to distract each other from the confusion regarding Mar’s state, and Goth’s insistence that  _ something  _ was wrong.. And yet, for some reason, Cross’ canvas was very… 

“Monochromatic!” Ink chirped cheerfully as he could. “Nothing wrong with that!” 

A glance at his palette showed that Cross  _ did _ choose a plethora of other colors, just as Ink had, and yet… he only used the white and black. 

And red. 

_ Why did I use red?  _

He couldn’t really answer that. 

They had both painted a forest scene. Pine trees stretched up into the darkened, moonlit sky while a calm body of water lay below them. Ink’s was absolutely gorgeous, with rich colors that clearly depicted what was where, and he even included a last minute, cooled firepit in the middle! Whereas Cross’ was still gorgeous too! Just… differently so. It held the darks and lights that Ink’s did while looking quite a bit more… unsettling. Eerie and… uninviting. 

Cross didn’t like it. 

Ink didn’t exactly know what to say. 

“It… has personality!” 

Feeling defeated by his own creation, the guard sighed, “All the personality of a serial killer, maybe. This isn’t what it was meant to be. I… I wanted it to…”  _ be more like yours,  _ he didn’t say. This wasn’t his first time painting alongside Ink, or his first bout of disappointment in his own work when compared to the true artist of the household.  _ He doesn’t like it when I compare, though.  _

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Ink wasn’t just a master of his chosen craft. No, he was everything that art embodied, and the creator of the concept altogether. And Cross? Cross was just a hobbyist artist that still struggled with getting clean line art out of his drawings. Seeing their work side by side was both intimidating and disheartening.

“...I really do like it, Cross,” Ink said softly. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. I mean, just look at the way you used the limited palette you went with to your advantage. The parts of the painting that are meant to be warm are portrayed that way very well, and the shadows? They really convey this creeping sense of disaster looming in the dark. It- it’s really good, hon.”

“It’s scary.” And who in this house would want a creepy painting? 

“Scary doesn’t mean bad.”

Cross snorted, pleasantly surprising Ink with just how much attitude there was in that disbelieving sound. “It kinda does when you’re aiming for cozy.” Setting his palette down, the guard sighed with another glance at his painting. “I… guess I’m in a scary kind of mood though…”

Before all… all  _ this— _ this being his new life outside of the castle—the last real experience he had with a child had been his own brother, and that was so long ago that those memories felt more like a distant dream, or even a past life. He wasn’t used to the panic brought about by a sick child, and he certainly didn’t know how to handle stuff like asthma attacks and sudden, unexplained mystery…  _ whatevers.  _ A cold he could probably deal with, but… this was potentially something so much  _ more  _ than that, and it was terrifying. No one being able to figure out just what Goth was sensing didn’t make it any less frightening, either. 

“...Yeah,” Ink whispered, “me too.”

There was always just so much to fear. So much to second guess and worry about, and it left the two in a silence for a bit. 

Ink glanced at him though, and tried for a smile. “We could always do another one?” 

“I think I’ll just train outside for a bit.” 

“Want company?” 

Cross hesitated. Nobody’s really been alone in the house if anyone else could help it, unless it was for more private, bathroom business. He wouldn’t necessarily  _ mind _ Ink joining him, but… he was hoping for some solitude, if even for a few minutes. Maybe practicing summoning his swords and knives and throwing them around where Geno wasn’t there to witness would do him some good. 

Of course, Ink wasn’t a mind reader. He was an empath, and very clearly saw the desire to be left alone. It wasn’t by the colors the guard was impressively good at still keeping hidden, but in the way he subtly turned away from the artist and avoided his gaze. “It’s okay, Cross,” Ink tried to keep his voice positive. “We’ll be here when you come back in!” 

Guilt had him dropping his gaze lower. “Feel free to paint over mine, Ink…” he murmured, leaving. 

Ink’s own shoulders hunched at his departure. He wasn’t going to ruin Cross’ work, even if the other hated it. Instead, he cleaned up the room and sought out someone else.  _ Error! _ Stars, it’s been  _ days _ since he and his first husband had a chance to sit and chat! Before… gods, before all this damn  _ confusion  _ about one of their littlest.  _ I just… I hope I’m wrong in thinking that Goth may be taking after Reaper…  _

_ F _ orcing himself to smile, Ink made his way to where Error’s colors were: In their... bedroom? 

Curious as to what he was doing, Ink stepped forward, “Ru?” he called out, voice soft as he tapped against the wall in a faint knock. 

The figure in his bed stopped breathing, then strings shot out from beneath the blankets. 

_ Ah… a nightmare…  _ fighting the welling sadness, Ink patiently waited for Error to emerge and inspect him. He answered every frustrating question, even the ones that confused him, until Error let him go.  _ Will he tell me about this one…?  _ Ink wondered. 

Error murmured, “You weren’t in bed…” 

“Sorry… I thought I woke you up? Usually ‘chocolate’ has you bolting to the kitchen before Reaper and Dream even reach the coffee.” 

“Speaking of,” the destroyer turned his gaze upward at him, “I haven’t seen them today…” 

Thinking about it, Ink realized he was right. While he sensed Dream’s return yesterday and saw Reaper off to work, neither of them ended up at home last night. They all knew Reaper had been pushing it by staying home from reaping, and he would probably be back  _ tonight _ instead after a full, hard-working day of doing his job, but Dream…? Maybe it was something about the council meetings that held him late? 

With a trace of annoyance, Ink remembered Dream ordering him to not go to the meetings anymore ‘unless you’d like to exacerbate the situation and put Negativity on the throne?’ That threat had been more than enough to keep Ink home, but not quite enough to stop him from pestering the golden primordial for information.  _ That dork’s probably keeping to himself about whatever happened so I don’t ask him anything… _

Which, of course, only made him want to know  _ more. _

It was just- just so frustrating being treated like this. Like- like some sort of child being kept from information their parents deemed too adult for them to handle. For fuck’s sake, Cree was the one responsible for both Reapertale  _ and  _ the entire system they used to run the realm. And yet, none of that mattered to Dream who was insistent on keeping Ink out of things.

_ He’s been really good at  _ **_that_ ** _ lately,  _ He thought, considering the obvious secret his fellow primordial was keeping.  _ Stars, is this how I used to make him feel? Lost, frustrated, and… and just so damn helpless, because I know I’m being kept out of the loop of something, but not  _ **_what?_ **

Feeling his mood souring, the artist locked those frustrations away for now and turned his full attention back to Error. “Busybodies, the both of them. But it can’t be helped. Our sweet Reapsy-poo needs to keep on track, and our Dream Man gets…  _ really  _ grumpy when people interrupt his work.”

“When  _ you  _ interrupt his work, you mean,” Error clarified, unresisting as the artist pulled him into his hold. It was the same skeleton that featured in his nightmare, but this Ink—the real Ink—was clearly different. There was nothing sinister in the endearing way he rubbed their cheeks together, cooing at Error like he was a kitten or something equally cute. More importantly, there was no green in his eyes when Error snuck a glance.  _ It’s really my Ink.  _ “Hey, where is everyone…?”

“Cross is outside training, and Geno is still with the twins and the other children in the playroom. Sci canceled today’s lesson last-minute, so he’s going to be taking over the role of teacher for now , though we were considering making it a half day for the kids.”

“If he’s trying not to worry about Mar, he’ll probably make the brats sit through a full day of lessons.”

“Probably,” Ink agreed. “But you never know. He’s been handling himself a lot better this last month or so. I… I think having friends has been good for him. And since the t-twins aren’t nursing anymore…”

“His ecto should be fading any day now.”  _ Thank fuck for that. _

It was an open secret that having his form constantly summoned following the trauma dealt by Negativity’s hands played a large role in Geno’s struggles. Hopefully, being able to dispel that would aid the glitch in overcoming his demons. At the very least, it would make the shortest husband of the bunch feel more comfortable.

“Heh, do you remember the first time Jam saw you without all the extra padding?” Ink questioned, tugging Error down onto his lap as he took a seat on the bed. “They wouldn’t stop crying because Mama wasn’t all soft and squishy anymore. It was like you took away their favorite pillow.” 

“First of all,  _ you’re  _ mama, and don’t you fucking forget it. Secondly,  _ you’re  _ the one that wouldn’t stop crying about how much you missed my boobs.”

“They’re very nice boobs.”

_ Nightmare used to think so, too. _ “Whatever. The point is, next time I’m pregnant, don’t you go around pouting when I finally get rid of the damn things after the brat doesn’t need them.”

“...Next time, hm?” Ink whispered.

That flustered Error into silence. Flashbacks of him whispering to Ink about “making art together”, that passionate moment between him in Ink’s office, the embarrassment the next morning when Cross wouldn’t meet their gazes, and Error had to find out second-hand why. 

He scoffed instead, “Whatever, just don’t you fucking pout and whine about it.” 

For a moment, Ink wanted to tease him further, to smile and press kisses to him, to maybe make this go somewhere. But there was still some hesitance in Error’s emotions that the destroyer seemed determined to ignore for the moment. “Ru…” 

He tensed. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Okay.” As much as Ink wanted to know anyways, he didn’t want Error to shut him out. “Feeling hungry?” he asked, hoping for an excuse to busy his hands somehow.

But Error shook his head, unnerved enough that the thought of food was far from a pleasant one. “Nah, I- no.”

“Feeling like you want to go for a walk?”

“No.”

“How about-”

“Ink,” the destroyer interrupted, voice flat. “If you want to do something, just say so. We can figure out something for both of us to do.” Quieter, he added, “I… I could use a distraction too.” And that was all he was going to give up about just how unsettled he felt. “We haven’t watched a movie in a while…”

_ Undernovela,  _ Ink thought, just to wince.  _ No, I… I probably ruined that for Error, and- Stars, what kind of perversion would it be to sit back and watch the “show” as if nothing happened?  _ As if Negativity and his orders for him hadn’t happened. 

“Want to break the kids out of school for a Disney marathon?” 

“I thought you said they were with Geno…” 

“Why don’t we all just have a movie marathon then? It’d be fun, right? Caramel popcorn and hot cocoa and blankies and stuff?” The more things he added onto the list, the more excited he became, and even Error’s reluctance to do anything was almost starting to wear off. “We could… oh! We can watch them from the beginning!” 

“Like, start it from the first movie they made, or-”

“Yes!” Ink interrupted, excited. “Yeah, we start from the first Disney movie, and see how many we can watch from there until we, I dunno, pass out?”

“Idiot,” Error sighed. Honestly, why did Ink have to go to extremes? That being said, however… “Yeah, I’m in. Let’s go rescue the children.”

Grinning, the artist pressed a sweet kiss to the center of Error’s forehead and swept him into his arms, standing. “Come, my love! Let us bring salvation to our poor, suffering children. And, trust me, they’re definitely suffering. Gen got that  _ look  _ in his eye when he realized taking over meant he gets to teach science too.”

“Fuck, those poor brats.”

Chuckling, Ink carried Error out of the room and a few paces down the hall to poke his head into the playroom. “How’s it goin-”

“Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill! The children chanted, shrieking over Ink’s curious inquiry. “BILL NYE THE SCIENCE GUY!”

“Buh! Buh! Buh! BUH!” Merci sang to the best of her abilities, clapping and bouncing on her mother’s lap while Mar, slumped against her, blinked at his siblings in sleepy confusion. “BUH-”

“-NYE THE SCIENCE GUY!”

“Science rules,” Geno murmured, a small smile on his face as he watched the smallest members of his family enjoy themselves. When caught sight of his dumbfounded brother and husband in the doorway, his smile grew sheepish. “It’s educational,” he supplied as an explanation, subtly checking Mar’s little skull with a fond pat.  _ Still no temperature….  _ Or anything else of note aside from some sleepiness. “Um, did you two need something?”

“...No,” Ink decided, offering his own smile in return. If the children were actually having fun learning, then who was he to pull them away from their studies. “Ru and I are going to set up downstairs to watch a few movies if you want to join us after. Cross is outside if you need him.”

“And Dream? Reaps…?” There was worry in his eye when Geno asked after them, having snuck his way into Cross’ bed when Reaper failed to return. When doing so, the glitch had taken note of the golden guardian’s empty bed. “Are they still out…? Res said he would tell Reaps to stop by if they ran into each other at work, but…” Nothing so far.

Error took note of the way Ink held him just a little tighter, as if having to physically grapple with his own reluctance of disappointing Geno, thus worrying him further. “No,” the artist began, just to pause when the faint sound of the front door opening was hard in the distance, followed by Reaper’s sleepy announcement of his return. “Actually, it looks like we’re only down one skeleton right now!”

Relief glimmered in Geno’s eyes. Ink, just about to suggest the Disney marathon thing, stopped when he noticed how engrossed Error had become, despite his husband trying so hard to pretend otherwise. Smiling to himself, he set the destroyer down by the kiddos, with Paperjam immediately crawling into his lap to supposedly gain a better vantage point, leaning back against his  mother’s father’s chest to watch the show. “I’ll be right back,” Ink spoke up, just to be shushed by nearly everyone in the room. Keeping his laughter inside this time, he shut the door and made his way down to their other godly husband, smiling when he found the cloak-clad skeleton predictably hovering over the coffee pot, watching it brew. 

Almost as if sensing the artist, Reaper grumbled, “Why does it brew slower when I watch it?” 

“You’re putting a lot of pressure on it to brew fast for you,” Ink teased. In the back of his mind, he tried to make a note to look into coffee machines that brewed faster. Or maybe more… or maybe just  _ continuously _ enough that Dream and Reaper wouldn’t have to compete so fiercely. Deep in those thoughts, he missed what Reaper had said, and found the other staring expectantly at him. “Sorry, what?” 

It was almost a patient smile that grew upon his face. It gave Ink the impression that Reaper was remembering when he was soulless and at least twelve times more forgetful. “I was asking how your day was?” 

“Oh! Well, we were gonna watch Disney but Gen’s got Bill Nye playing, so I guess we’re sciencing it up tonight.”

“Is that so…?” Reaper replied, his lackluster response melding into a jaw-cracking yawn that seemed to last for ages. “Hey, is Dream home…?”

“No…” And, despite his best efforts, Ink was trying to keep himself from worrying.

Reaper, on the other hand, failed to hide his relief. At the look Ink shot him, the god smiled sheepishly. “I… don’t really want to see him,” he admitted, voice lowering to a whisper. “I… found someone, but it ended poorly. When he finds out, Dream is going to be…” the god shrugged, a wry smile adding itself to his exhausted expression. “He’ll be upset.”

“Who did you run into…?” Ink pressed.

But the god only shrugged again. “Dream… he- he doesn’t want you to know…” When the artist ended up looking a little crushed, Reaper sighed. “It’s what he wants, Ink.”

“And we should respect that. I know, Reaps, I just-” Shaking his head, the taller of the two skeletons tried for a smile, then tried yet again until the expression stuck. “Anyways, do- uh, do you want to join us upstairs? Or would you rather nap? You look tired.”

“...I want to be with you,” Reaper murmured, honesty seeping off his form in waves. Glancing at the still brewing machine, he sighed then turned a familiar smirk Ink’s way. “Heh, I wouldn’t mind spending some time together right now… intimately?”

“...Oh?” Very interested in  _ that,  _ the artist grinned. “Sure you won’t fall asleep on me?” 

The god’s reply was blunt, but honest. “I’ve been thinking about you pressed against me the entire way over. I won’t fall asleep now that I might actually get to experience it again.” 

Well, who was Ink to deny him?

Meeting the artist halfway, Reaper sighed and practically melted against the other’s tall form. “I missed you.”

“Yeah?” Ink teased, delighted. Whereas Error was the only partner he had sex with since their return, Reaper was really the only one he felt sure of when it came to interactions like this. Cross was still so uncertain of himself, he and Dream were trying to ease back into the life they briefly shared, and Geno and Error… had their demons. While Reaper wasn’t untouched by his stay at the castle, he was definitely the most comfortable with what used to be their normal flirtation. “Wanna show me just how much you missed me?”

“And how should I do that?” Reaper questioned, playing dumb with a smirk.

Ink matched the sly look with one of his own. “A kiss? Maybe two?”

With the quiet jingle of his anklet, the god pressed closer, trilling sensually. “Why stop at two?” he whispered.

Tempted to push things further along, the primordial adjusted his hold so that one of his arms hung low around Reaper’s waist, his hand on the bird-like skeleton’s hip. “Why stop at just  _ kissing?” _

“You want sex?”

_ Yeah, I really kinda do.  _ But, he wanted to be sure that he was doing right, even if he could feel the desire brewing within Reaper. “Do you?”

At that, Reaper’s playful smirk turned into a pleased smile. “Sex with you? Heh, I’ll never turn that down, love.”

“Never-ever?”

Tugging Ink along with him, Reaper leaned against the counter, a few feet away from the coffee machine. “Never-ever,” he promised, tugging Ink down for another kiss, his exhaustion seeming to vanish once presented with the potential with some fooling around. “Come on, Inky.  _ Lord Creativity,”  _ the shorter skeleton corrected, voice playful. “Let’s… make love?”

_ Clever.  _ Ink smiled. “We’re probably expected upstairs.” When Reaper pouted, he followed up with a promise, “Buuuuut, your coffee  _ is  _ brewing pretty slowly…”

Reaching out, Reaper switched the machine off. “There,” he began, turning to face Ink with a proud, pleased smile. “Now…” he paused for another peck, then spoke again:

“You and I have all the time in the world.”


	40. Just Another Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cross blushes, Reaper fusses, and Ink is briefly consumed by guilt invoked by his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Sexual content, including flashback scenes.

He and Reaper didn’t end up having passionate sex on a counter, but they did get to enjoy themselves with a few sensual kisses and curious touches before Cross drew attention to himself, blushing and sputtering where he stood frozen in the entrance to the kitchen. Tingling in a  _ very  _ pleasant manner, Reaper tucked himself close against Ink, seemingly torn between shyness and slyness, smiling at Cross. Ink, cheekbones colored, grinned at the guard as well. “Training is going well?” 

“Yes, it… went fine. Is it going well for you here…?” 

“Very!” Reaper chirped up. 

The curious hand lingering just within Ink’s pants told a different story. 

Still very much uncertain of himself, Cross glanced between them, histiny smile wavering at the edges. 

Reaper and Ink also stood there. They glanced at each other, before Reaper chimed up, “Did… you want to join us…?” he asked, leaving the guard to question just how serious the invitation was.

“A-actually… I was going to get some water, then a shower…” As if needing to explain himself, Cross added, “I stink.”

“Huh, did you want  _ us _ to join  _ you _ then…?” This time, it was Ink who made the suggestion that had the guard’s face aflame with a gorgeous purple. 

Softly, Cross denied the request. “Just water, thank you.” He didn’t allow himself to look too closely at the two, who hadn’t bothered moving apart quite yet. He got his water bottle and left, quietly stepping up the stairs and peering curiously at the slightly cracked door that held everyone else, aside from Dream and the uncle duo. Ultimately, he left them alone and disappeared into one of the bathrooms. 

“Huh…” Reaper murmured. “Is he alright…?” 

“...I don’t know,” Ink sighed, though the sound soon turned breathy, shifting into an airy “oh” of pleasure at a fleeting, teasing touch. “That’s cheating.”

Grinning, the god slid his hand free of the confines of Ink’s pants and winked. “Should we head up? Not that I’m not enjoying myself, but…” empty sockets gazed upwards. “I wouldn’t mind giving Gen a snuggle, and- and Mar is still…”

“Perfectly fine?” Though even as he suggested that, Ink seemed uncertain. “I know we’re all worried that Goth may…”

“Be like me?”

“If Goth ends up like you, that just means that he grew to be an amazing little man,” Ink insisted, kissing Reaper softly in a silent reminder that the god was loved for who he was despite  _ what  _ he was. “But, if he  _ does  _ take after you when it comes to his abilities… well, I don’t really know what to say. It’s a scary thought that he may be sensing- th… that… that Mari might-” Heaving a shuddering sigh, the artist smiled helplessly. “You’ve checked him over, Dream has given him a look, and I have my  _ full focus  _ as an empath on him twenty-four seven. And? Nothing, Reapsy. Absolutely nothing. Whatever keeps upsetting Goth? It isn’t something any of us seem able to sense, and we have centuries of experience on the little guy.”

“So… what? We shouldn’t be worried?”

“I don’t think any of us can really help that. But, I think that, while it’s okay for us to be concerned and keep an eye out, there’s just- just nothing we can do when Mar seems to be doing well. We can’t cure something we can’t identify, and- and there’s only so much we  _ can  _ do without potentially causing a problem because we fed him medicine he didn’t need, or summoned his soul one too many times. I mean, according to Sci-”

“Exposing a child’s soul leaves them susceptible to illness.”

“Yeah,” Ink sighed. “This is… confusing. But, well, there’s nothing wrong with going upstairs to check on him, just in case.” Although, if he were honest, the artist would confess to wishing to continue what they began. “He’s just a floor away.” 

“...I’d like to go upstairs and hold him,” Reaper whispered, an honest sort of yearning in his gaze.  _ “And  _ I’d like to go and give Ru and Gen a kiss each. I haven’t kissed them in forever!” he whined.

“And Ru calls  _ me  _ the dramatic one.” One of Reaper’s favorite methods of attempting to get out of work was distracting them with affection, though Geno and Error had their difficulties with such a habit as of late. “Aren’t my kisses enough?” he pouted.

“Your kisses are my favorite, right next to everyone else’s. But, I…” the god ducked his head, his hood falling forward to obscure his eyes, though his pout was obvious. “...It’s a special kind of treat to get to kiss them. After everything, it- it feels like victory.”

Ink softened, thinking of the special kind of happiness he felt whenever Geno found the courage to rise up on his toes for a kiss, or when Cross worked through his uncertainty and embarrassment to hold his hand. Little things that felt like huge wins. “Then, how about we go up?”  _ Jam was playing on my phone earlier, and I think I want to try texting Dream again.  _

Reaper smiled and snuggled into Ink once more, pressing a peck to his chin before pulling away and tugging him up the stairs as well. 

As he intended, Reaper moved to give both Error and Geno a kiss, then Ink when the artist made a show of pouting and whining about being left out. Once each of his husbands were left blushing and, in Error’s case, trying to hide their smiles, the god greeted the children and peered at Goth, and the little sister he held on his lap. Just like her elder brothers, the little thing seemed engrossed in the show, her sockets wide and strange, swirling eyelights twinkling enthusiastically. A quick, questioning glance at Ink confirmed that, yes, Merci’s joy was her own and not a by-product of the abilities she inherited from Cree. Whatever it was that the artist and Dream set up to protect the small child from emotions not her own, it was still holding up. Thankfully.

Seemly appeased, he moved on to inspecting the smallest yet older twin, the smile he wore warping into something strange as he tried to keep a pleasant expression on his face. Ink didn’t blame him for the poor attempt though, not when there was simply so much still unknown about the strange situation surrounding their youngest son. At the moment however, Mar at least seemed to still be doing well. Obviously tired, the tiny skeleton sat cradled in his mother’s hold, unbothered by the shrieks and chanting his siblings would break into with the start of every episode and apparently content to merely exist as he was. Every now and then, Mar would nod off, but the slips into slumber were always brief, and he would jerk himself awake with a series of rapid blinking and a disgruntled whine. 

“He’s been sleeping more and more, correct?” Reaper murmured, thinking over the neat, professional notes passed on by Sci. Briefly, he wondered how much the scientist would benefit from his experience as the twins’ doctor when it came to dealing with his child. In just another month or two, he would be due.  _ I expect that child will have much better luck than Marigold.  _ He sighed, “Why won’t he just sleep now? He’s obviously tired… Do you wanna sleep in papa’s hold, Mari?” Chuckling, he offered the tiny thing an amused grin, crooning, “You can pluck a feather from your daddy, too.”

“Reaps, stop giving the kids your feathers. At this rate, you’re going to end up all featherless, and then you’ll whine about it,” Geno sighed, the subtle angling away from the god and tighter hold on Marigold saying quite a bit about his willingness to hand the youngling over.

The god shrugged, grinning. “I mean… I’d like to think that I’d accept my balding gracefully, but… uh…” Chuckling, he lowered himself down next to Geno, leaning in as if whispering a secret, winking at the glitch. “If I lost all my feathers… I’d cry.”

Not sure what to do with what he recognized as a genuine admission, Geno squirmed. “Work went well?” 

For a moment, Reaper looked… distant. “I… I encountered…” he shook his head, smiling. “Can I hold Mari, Ge? Maybe I’ll have better luck getting him to sleep.”

“He’s being stubborn, it’s fine. I got it.”

“Ge-”

“No.” Geno insisted, and while Reaper looked displeased, he didn’t press further. 

Still, Ink kept an eye socket on Geno, worried that Reaper might be pushing it with the glitch only after just barely getting home, though he found himself distracted in his search for Dream’s number to send a message. Thankfully, getting his phone back from Paperjam was much easier with Bill Nye there to distract the eldest of the children. Within moments, he had his Posipaw’s number pulled up.  _ “Reaper is home. Are you doing okay in your work?”  _

An honest and very worried question, though the artist wasn’t entirely sure the other would respond soon, if at all. Hopefully he did…. Ink had questions, and Reaper’s earlier comment regarding his venture out and Dream had him extremely curious.

_ What doesn’t he want me to know…? Why did he tell Reaper but not me…? _ As much as he tried to not be hurt about it… well the twinge within his ribcage had a bolder tale to tell.  _ Why doesn’t he trust me? _

But even as the question filtered through his mind, Ink knew there were many reasons as to why he was so undeserving of Dream’s trust; some of which were still buried within the recesses of his mind, awaiting to be unearthed… and others that he kept hidden all on his own, unsure of how to even begin such overdue admissions.  _ If… If Dream knew… if my trusting Positivity knew what I did…  _ Ink tried to fend the memories off, but failed. All at once, his guilt consumed him.

_ In all honesty, he isn’t sure how he ended up in this position and, in many ways, that uncertainty leaves him feeling helpless, like a fledgling being thrown into the sky with no understanding of the mechanisms of flight. His arms flail a bit, but it does nothing to steady him and he topples over, his graceless fall made all the more unflattering by his disheveled appearance and the startled expression he’s sure he’s wearing. When he braces himself against the bedding with his elbows and goes to push himself up, it’s with the intention of figuring out just how the hell paperwork led to this. _

_ “Ne-” is all he manages before warmth consumes him, and he groans. He isn’t quite sure when his body began reacting to the situation, but he’s all too aware of the mouth around hardened magic, Negativity’s usual smirk distorted. “Negativity-” he means to say stop. Demand it, even. Positivity rarely joins them for these meetings, but- but his absence doesn’t lessen the love Cree feels for him, or grant him permission to abuse the other’s trust. And yet, he can’t get the command to form. _

_ When Negativity pulls back the slightest bit, his hips push forward to chase the warmth of his mouth. When Cree moves to push him off instead, he finds the hand placed on the other’s skull pushing him down more. When he glances at the other primordial, trying to find the words to contradict his body’s desires, he’s struck by the unexpected surge of pleasure at the sight of prideful Negativity serving him on his knees, green eyes smoldering with lust. _

_ And when he cums with a cry, the sound of Negativity’s name falling from his mouth rings with a betrayal he can never undo… and doesn’t necessarily want to change.  _

He finds himself brought back to the room when Geno clicks the “next” button and the intro to Bill Nye’s show plays up again, to the eagerness of the children. Even Reaper seemed to be sucked into the show, though Ink couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. Not… right now. Not with sudden embarrassing feelings beginning to swarm to life for no discernable reason. At least, no reason he wanted to admit.

Because, honestly, what about anything that happened today reminded him of- 

_ Bright green eyes sparkled up at him, and he could feel himself melt, eagerly meeting the kiss with one of his own, stealing more and more moments away from the one he…. Couldn’t remember saying yes to. He couldn’t remember if they ever said anything anymore. Surely there was consent? Because why else would he let Neggy in so close again, when he said he’d be doing paperwork? Or was “doing paperwork” just their code phrase now…? No… no, but he really had work he needed to do…! Right? It was so hard to think with the pleasure-  _

Abruptly, Ink found himself stepping out and heading to the- oh but he can’t go to that shower. He can hear it running, see Cross’ emotions.  _ Out, out, I need out _ , but why? Negativity isn’t here. They were fine. He’s- his empathy is open all the time, not just to monitor Mar, but- 

_ I’m… freaking out right now… _ he realized distantly, nearly stumbling into his studio.  _ I need- I need- Dream, where’s Dream? Why’s he ignoring me…? _

A check at his phone, barely two minutes have passed. No new messages. 

Yeeeah, that wasn’t great for the chaos settling within himself now. It wasn’t great for the attempt at convincing himself that Dream wasn’t ignoring him.  _ Maybe his phone’s volume is off? Maybe it died? Maybe he’s in another meeting and he can’t even glance at it?  _

They all felt like excuses. 

_ “Neggy, I-” he isn’t sure if he pushes forward or if the other primordial pushes back, but he finds himself sheathed within Negativity yet again, breathless with pleasure as they move as a single unit. “This is- no more rounds after this, Neggy. Posi is waiting for me, and- and I’ve told you, this is wrong.” _

_ “You also told me you loved me.” The words are moaned, and send a warmth as heated as that intense green gaze shooting straight to his pelvis.  _

_ “That was- was in the heat of the moment.” A moment just like this very one where he found himself pressed flush against Negativity, working towards pleasure with his name constantly on the tip of his tongue. There’s a lot of moments like these now, even though he swears every time that he’ll strive for complete faithfulness. _

_ Negativity chuckles, “Excuses, excuses…” he purrs, shining gaze lit with adoration that gives way to euphoria when they tip over the edge of completion. _

“...I’m a horrible husband,” he sobs, the admission reaching no other in the house. He can feel the dregs of old pleasure invoking interest, phantom sensations from a life lived long ago leaving him yearning for touch. Part of him regrets the intimacy he shared with Reaper, blaming this sudden desire on the god whereas the pieces of himself he dislikes the most regrets not getting any further before they were caught.  _ How long was it since I’ve had sex?  _ Since he and Error made a mess in this very studio? Ugh, what did it even matter? “Because,” Ink whispered bitterly, knowing the answer to his own question, “I’m horny, and I… I’m  _ ashamed.” _

Marigold was- was in some… some strange limbo that only Goth seemed able to sense, but couldn’t explain to them how to help. Dream was keeping secrets. Geno checked himself every day with a desperate hope to wake with his ecto gone. Cross was always so meek and uncertain, and- and that wasn’t even all of it. Merci had to be watched in case she ever needed her nebulizer, Jam consistently switched between newfound independence and clinginess, Error was constantly hot or cold, and-

And Reaper was troubled himself, but seemed to at least strive for optimism. He still joked, laughed, and he flirted even when worry consumed him. He tried to be the best father and husband that he could be and had a tendency to berate himself for not being  _ more,  _ but he- he was perfect as is, and handsome, and Ink could feel the shape of his smile against his neck and the sensation of his hand around his cock and- and he…

Stars, he  _ wanted him.  _ For so long, intimacy was something they all feared, and while the taste he and Error shared was wonderful, the destroyer hadn’t been in the mood for sex in what felt like ages, and no one else was ready. No one else but Reaper. So, he wanted to act on it.  _ But how could he? _

_ My stupid libido is what started…  _ **_everything,_ ** though that wasn’t necessarily true. Cree’s mistakes were plentiful, and his infidelity with Negativity was really only a single piece of the puzzle. But his unresolved guilt, the projection he wasn’t quite blind to when it came to his insistence concern over whatever secret Dream held…  _ those  _ were tied to sex, and so was a majority of the trauma hurting his family. In many ways, wanting to do perfectly natural, if not filthy, things with his husband felt like another betrayal to the people he loved.

“I don’t know what to do…” he whispered, feeling weak at the admission. Lord Creativity was meant to be more than just… just some pitiful, broken man in need of a helping hand. “I don’t know why these thoughts are hitting me  _ now,  _ or- or-  _ I just don’t know what to do.” _

“Then, perhaps I could be of assistance.”

Startled, Cree glanced up just in time to scrabble forward in order to catch a falling Dream. He did so easily, though his stunned gaze never left the disgruntled child who had given the golden eyed skeleton a surprisingly strong push his way. “Core…?”

“Hello, Lord Creativity,” the child greeted, smiling tensely. “I know you have your questions, but… to be honest? I am  _ not  _ in the mood to grace you with my presence after dealing with Lord Positivity’s  _ childishness  _ for the entire night. Yes, childishness. I,  _ a child,  _ am describing him as such,  _ because he refuses to listen to reason and simply sulks when my genuine responses displease him.  _ As such, I am leaving you with this advice— **_all_ ** of you, in fact:  **Talk.** I rather not find out whether this is the route where miscommunication ends us all.”

And with that, Core turned and left the way they came, leaving Ink gaping at the empty space they once stood.


	41. Talk, Talk, Talk, Señores...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which- wait, what's this? Actual communication? HONESTY? Who are these sensible folk and what have they done with the skeletons we know and love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Mentions of rape, mentions of sex, heavy feeling of fears and helplessness. Always remember that it's perfectly acceptable to skip chapters that discomfort you.

**_"Talk_. ** _I rather not find out whether this is the route where miscommunication ends us all.”_

In truth, that was… rather sound advice, especially with the casual reference to some great disaster should they continue to miscommunicate acting as _wonderful_ motivation. Getting everyone together to pass on Core’s suggestion wasn’t even difficult since, with Dream’s return, that meant that everyone was home, so… yeah. The idea to talk was… good. Really good. And just to make sure that they had enough time, they even decided to dedicate the rest of the day to an in-depth conversation, because _surely_ that was more than enough time to discuss their individual issues and concerns!

_Heavy. Sarcasm. Noted._

Either way, a half a day was, if nothing else, a start. 

So they started! Once Spright and Respite returned, they guiltily passed the children onto the fond, long suffering skeletons and locked themselves away in the playroom—the largest room in the house that offered privacy. Of course, there was a bit of procrastination and the urge to avoid something as oddly terrifying as communication was, so they wasted time first by gathering treats in the center of the coffee table that acted as a desk, got settled in their respective spots, and… 

And just… stared at each other. Uncertainty was most certainly thick in the air, though nobody made moves to change that. Well, until Dream meekly suggested, “Do we need… someone else… here? To… mediate? Sci maybe? Or just… another kind of… professional...” 

_Therapist_ hissed through all of their minds. Geno immediately looked uncomfortable, palms sweating and a nervous tug at his shirt, where it would’ve been his brother’s old red scarf. Reaper, ever the watchful, dutiful husband, swooped in and crooned a soothing tone. Though Ink was distracted, staring somewhat intently at Dream and wondering what secret the god of death had implied, he still noticed the flicker of discomfort at the nuzzle against Geno’s shoulder. 

After a while, Error broke the silence spawned from Dream’s question. “We ain’t needin’ a damned therapist. We just… we can…. Uh…” 

“Roll a die?” Cross suggested. 

“Alright,” Ink shrugged, trying to mask his own discomfort behind a calm smile and even tone. “Who’s gonna be which number?” 

Another long, painful silence, until Reaper chirped up, “Eldest is first?” 

With nobody objecting to it, the artist sighed and withdrew a die from his-

“Why the fuck did you have that in your inventory?” Error demanded. 

The sullen reply was nearly hard to hear, “I was starting to show PJ how to play a board game with his dragons…” 

“...That’s really cute, but shouldn’t we just… go ahead and roll?” Reaper questioned, Geno’s hands held in his own to keep the glitch from picking at his shirt further, or the scarring on his face. “I… I don’t think dragging this out any longer will help us…”

“Then why don’t you just go first?” Error snapped, on edge at the threat of honesty of all things looming over their heads.

At that, the god was quick to offer a meek excuse, falling silent.

“Rolling it is…” Ink murmured, giving the sparkling die in his hand a kiss for good luck before rolling it out. “It’s a… three?”

“...That’s still me,” Reaper complained, his expression one of betrayal. “I… I really didn’t want to go first…” he sighed. “But- I guess fate demands it. Uh… where should I start…?” But even as the god spoke, his mind seemed made up. His sightless sockets hadn’t left Dream. “...”

Realizing where this was headed, the guardian stiffened. “Reaper-”

“Sunstar, I-”

“Please, let me-”

 _“Dream,”_ Reaper pleaded back, his gaze intense on the other, smaller skeleton. “I’ve already been keeping it a secret, but- I- something happened.”

“Reaper, I- I’m _begging you,_ let me be the one to-”

“I ran into Palette!” the god blurted, his words making no sense to the others in the room, but striking Dream harder than any blow he could remember receiving. “I- I _saw him,_ Dream. _In person._ And- and the moment I looked into those eyes, I knew who he was. I knew that he was…” Letting Dream fill in the rest for himself, Reaper slumped. “...But he ran from me, in the end. I- I chased him, actually. I wanted to catch him. Stars, more than- _anything_ in the world, I wanted to catch him, because I _knew_ how you would feel if you saw me show up with him. And- and I wanted to see the look you would wear, but-” the god’s voice wavered, his disappointment creeping into Dream’s senses despite feeling so far away. “...I ended up coming here empty handed… In the end, I…”

 _Failed,_ Dream thought, and oh what a nasty, bitter thing it was. “You… you…” poison rested on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down. Reaper was a god of _death,_ and there were a dozen reasons as to why that may have ultimately spooked Palette. “Did-” his voice cracked. “Did he say anything? How- how did he look? Was he scared?”

“...Yeah,” Reaper admitted. “He… he was pretty scared. Sad, too. _Lost._ I- he told me he was looking for you, and I- I offered to help, before he ended up... running...”

“Why-” Dream choked on a sob he didn’t notice rising up.

Still, Reaper understood, his smile sad. “I’m scary.”

“Are ya gonna fill the rest of us in?” Error demanded yet again, fingers twitching. 

Ink’s own gaze flickered between them, worried and- “Was this the secret that you said Dream didn’t want me to know…?” he asked Reaper. 

The god nodded, looking somewhat caught between shame and relief. “Yeah… sorry, Dreamboat.” 

_It’s okay._

_It’s_ **_not_ ** _okay…!_

_It’s-_

Dream shook his head, silent in his efforts to try and keep the harshness of the sobs down. _Reaper was so close…! And Palette… my poor baby- he’s_ **_alive_ ** _but he’s scared, and lost and-_ “What am I supposed to do with this…?” he whispered, voice filled with fear. “What- _where_ , Reaps…? Where did you see him…?” 

“Who! Is! He!” Error was near clapping, if only to get their damned attention. Though it was the feeling that Dream was trying _not_ to look at him that Error finally snapped, “This is somethin’ that’s gonna piss me off, so you’ve been keeping it such a secret that even paint-for-brains got all whiny about it, isn’t it?” 

“Please, Error, try to understand- I- we- _Ink didn’t know_ , and you know he loves you-?” 

“Oh my fucking stars,” Error snapped, hit with a sudden realization that churned his stomach until he was left feeling ill. “You- you’re fucking cheating on us, aren’t you? This- this Palette fucker has been- what? Sucking your dick? _That’s why he fucking ran when he saw Reaper!_ What, he wasn’t man enough to step up and face us head on? _You_ weren’t man enough to- to-” Glitches shuddered through Error, though he gritted his teeth against them and bit out, “How long were you going to keep this a secret? How long was _Reaper_ going to fucking cover for- for-”

“E-Error,” Dream stuttered, fighting through his tears. “Error, Palette isn’t- _I’m not cheating!”_

“Yeah, right, then what _are_ you doing with this bitch? What could be so bad that-”

 _“Palette is my_ **_son!”_ **

Silence fell in the room. Then, “Roll a new number, squid.” ” 

“Error-” Dream tried again, then looked to a frozen Ink, “Ink- _Cree_ , I-” 

_“Roll a new number, Ink,”_ Error hissed. 

Numb, Ink simply let the die slip from his slackened hold.

_Five._

Geno shifted, glancing around hesitantly and somehow managing to avoid every gaze sent in his direction. “I… I don’t… I don’t even know where to start…” he whispered, tense even as Reaper coaxed him onto his lap where the god attempted to hide with an embrace. “I-” he glanced at Dream, then Error. The first left an ache in his chest, Dream’s sobs poorly hidden by the hand over his mouth. The desperate, pained expression Error wore only made his heart twist more. “Error, Dream-”

“He raped you.” Error said, dragging what was an obvious truth to light with none of the remorse that would haunt him later. When Geno flinched, he buried his guilt beneath layers of rage, tucking it alongside everything else he hid that acted as fuel for the red hot anger within his soul. “Nightmare raped you, and humiliated you, a-and- aNd turned you into hIs LitTlE _bitch,_ and now you’re f-f- _fucking_ afraid o-o-oooffff e-eVeRyONe-!”

“S-stop…!” Geno protested— _pleaded._

But Error didn’t want to. Faced with new hurts that tore open old insecurities and the knowledge that everyone expected him to share his innermost thoughts—his greatest fears—left him spiteful; nasty in a way that could only stem from projection at its strongest. He didn’t want to hurt Geno. Error was a selfish man though, and he wanted to bare his own hurt to the others even less, so he let himself fall back into bad habits and told himself that every word he spoke didn’t feel like a dagger to his own heart.

“Error…” Reaper murmured, his lightless gaze intense.

The destroyer didn’t let himself falter. “Just- ju- just- _just-”_ stuck, he growled then whined and clawed at his face with fingers that itched and burned. His words were failing him, and that only served to worsen the chaos within his mind. “W-we a-a… _alllllll-_ all k-kNoW already, s-so j-JuSt… ju- jUSt _t-tALK!”_

Dream wasn’t the only one crying now. “I… I don’t…” _remember,_ Geno wanted to add, but he found his tongue too heavy in his mouth, and his jaw locked into place as he tensed. He felt cold, but his face was hot where tears fell into the crevices cut into his cheeks, making the scars shine in the light all while feeling so much like the blood the wounds once spilled. “I- I-”

“Geno…” Reaper whispers, but he was too close. Too close, too close, t-too-

 _Trapped in darkness, Geno finds that he can’t see, or feel. No fear, no pain, just… empty sensations. Touches that don’t invoke anything they should, pressure that’s just… there. None of it feels right, or wrong, or just- just_ feels, _and that’s not right. It’s almost enough to leave him afraid, but- but even that is out of reach, somehow. He just… isn’t working correctly, though his hearing seems just fine._

And as he trembles in the present with his mind trailing further and further into that past, Geno shudders under the memory of low groans full of a stolen pleasure, _and he knows._ He knows what it means, what- what was done and- and, somehow, those distant, cloudy memories are worse than the ones where he was held down and used and- and _trained,_ because there’s horrible certainty in the moments where he had no choice but to live in the moment, but it’s almost better than being uncertain of just how many times he was violated as some- some filthy little _toy_ while lost in his own mind.

“...I… I don’t…” Reaper is too close, and his arms are too tight around him, and- and it’s too much but _safe_ and Geno’s racing thoughts can’t figure out if they want to latch onto what little good there is in this moment, or shy away. It leaves him panicked, and he hates the way he can feel his breasts move with each ragged breath. The scar bitten over his heart burns. “...I…”

A new wave of tears spill over, and what Geno manages to say next is spoken in a small voice, but something neither of them expect: The truth.

“...Th… the… the first time he- it happened, he sent Cross away first....”

The guard sat up a bit straighter. “Gen-” 

A quick, terrified shake of his head, just one, had the others falling into a silence. It took several tries for Geno to speak up again. “I don’t… I don’t know how many- t-times, b-but-” The words came a little quicker, a lot more breathlessly, as though he was trying to not think too hard about what he was saying. “I think it was a lot…? It- it _must_ have been...! But…” his voice was just below a whisper, “I don’t remember- I don’t _want_ to remember…” 

Which just made Error feel like a bigger piece of shit than he already did- 

“It happened,” Geno swallowed the trembling in his voice. He raised his eyes to meet Error’s. “To me. To _you._ ” A look to Ink. “To you too, I think. It- it _fucking_ happened,” no joy resided in the short chuckle at the horrible joke, “Do- are we all going to t-talk about _that_ , o-or…” 

“Save _that_ for another day…?” Ink suggested quietly. Trying for humor was already difficult in such a poor situation, but Dream’s echoing confession in his head made it so much harder. “Heh, we can have our own little exclusive… club.” And what a pitiful one it would be.

The three of them exchanged looks, with Error quick to drop his gaze from all of them. Even then, it seemed as though they reached a silent agreement, and with a small nod, Ink reached for the die he’d left on the table. 

Cross reached across and stopped him, picking up the die to look at it. “If… you three would be okay if I… joined…?” 

Error went still, finally tipping into a reboot he must’ve been fighting off the whole time. The guard cringed sympathetically but gave him enough space to settle once he was back. 

“Sorry, teach,” he tried for a smile. “Guess we’ve got more in common again, huh…?” 

_“When?”_ Error choked, but he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want this to be real. Not- not what happened to him, his brother, _Ink-_ he didn’t want any one of them to have suffered this shit. At the very least, he wanted to take all of it away from _them,_ even if that meant he had to suffer through every instance of abuse instead. “He never- not-”

“After you left,” Cross admitted. “Not… not at first, and not… _often,_ but… enough.” Even just once would have been more than enough. In truth, the fact that it happened at all, let alone to _four_ of them, was too much to begin with. No one deserved this pain. _No one._ “I… asked for it, actually. At first.”

“But you didn’t want it,” Ink whispered, not entirely aware of his own response.

“...No,” the guard admitted, his voice a mere wavering whisper. “I just… didn’t want anyone else,” he made sure not to look at Error, “to suffer if he decided to seek out his own entertainment elsewhere.”

Cross was always too noble to be a nightmare. Too- too earnest, too… sweet in a way a nightmare couldn’t afford to be, not if they wanted to survive. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, there was a soft core hidden in the black and white clad skeleton’s soul. And Nightmare exploited that.

“...He… he just… just takes what he wants…” Geno whispered.

When Reaper spoke, his solemn voice left unpleasant goosebumps across cherry skin. Geno was too on edge to handle even the faint sensation of the god’s breath on his neck, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He felt weak from his own admissions, and his first husband was a comfort he wasn’t willing to give up even if his presence hurt more than helped at the moment.

“That man…” the god began, teeth grit. “Negativity just- he gets whatever it is that he wants, doesn’t he?”

None of them had a good response. While Reaper’s question was angry, it was also rhetorical, because- because that was exactly what it felt like. No matter how much it stung or ate away at them, Negativity just- he just-

“He always wins,” Reaper murmured.

* * *

In the silence of the corridor, his footsteps seemed far too far loud—disruptive, in a very strange way. Although the slippers he selected for this venture made very little noise, the sounds produced by his slow, timid stride simply didn’t fit. This place… it wasn’t a residence meant to contain life. Not for extended periods of time, at least. The long, dark hallways, the many rooms full of finery in place of personality… it was so… _soulless._ Empty. As such, the evidence of a presence beyond whatever ghost these halls contained felt strange.

 _I shouldn’t be here,_ he thought, not for the first time. In truth, the probability that the same thought would return at a later point was high, especially with the work that was expected of him. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this task.” But even as he said that, he knew better.

_I didn’t have a choice. Not much of one anyway._

Heaving a great sigh, he placed a hand over his stomach and continued down the hall, back aching slightly. “At the very least, this shouldn’t take too long. He slept through last night’s procedure, and…” his voice trailed into an uncomfortable silence. When he found it within himself to voice his most honest thoughts, it was obvious to even himself just how pathetic his wavering voice sounded. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Bitchin’ about your duties again?”

At that he paused, tensing. “Killer.”

A flip of a knife, a striking grin.

“How’s it goin’ there, Sci?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say that we were actually rolling a die to see who gets to talk, and how amusing it was to realize that Reaper was unlcuky enough to be selected to go first RIGHT AFTER we wrote him really not wanting to? That poor birb.


	42. Simple Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the conversation continues

The silence lingered, weighing on all their shoulders as the oppressive atmosphere born from hopelessness thickened unpleasantly. It wasn’t that no one knew what to say, but that finding the courage to speak was difficult, even if the daunting task of going first was no longer a concern. In addition to that, all this talking just felt…  _ pointless.  _ Reaper was right, after all. Somehow, someway, Negativity always seemed to win. What good would discussing traumas they’d rather not draw attention to do?

_ But… this- this isn’t for Negativity…  _ Ink thought, unable to meet anyone’s eyes, though he especially avoided Dream.  _...Core… they hinted at some great disaster if we don’t talk, but- but, in the end, talking only helps  _ **_us,_ ** _ and only hurts  _ **_us_ ** _ if we decide to leave things be.  _ Geno was a good example of that.

It was difficult to decide who amongst them had suffered the most. In truth, it was unfair to  _ all  _ of them to even imply that suffering was something you could simply just compare, like one’s trauma was a petty achievement to squabble over or some twisted popularity contest. Trying to decide who was handling things the best wasn’t all that fair, either. People healed in different ways, and at different paces. That being said, it was hard to deny the fact that, out of everyone, Geno was actually the most vocal when it came to his fears.

Very rarely was it something the glitch actively chose to do, but it seemed like he kept on encountering various events that pushed him to discuss his fears. His brief terror over Dream’s corrupting anguish, his frustration over his own terror, accepting others into their home… Geno obviously didn’t enjoy speaking his mind when it came to his problems, but these things gave him the not-so-gentle nudges he needed. And what resulted from this? Improvement.

It wasn’t always consistent, and Geno never quite seemed as satisfied in his improvements as they were, but Geno  _ did  _ strive to change; to take his life back into his own hands in little ways. The evidence was in the light training he did with Cross, and every kiss the glitch initiated. Furthermore, his improvement could be seen in his determination to take back the kitchen he once ruled, too. He had a long way to go, but… but Geno was  _ trying.  _ He knew what frightened him, what held him back, and he was trying to work through it.

Could any of them say the same? Could  _ Ink  _ say with complete honesty that he acknowledged his demons in order to conquer them? No, he couldn’t.

But he wanted to  _ try.  _

So when he coaxed the die from Cross’ hold, Ink took a steadying breath and set it aside for good. It was time to finally be brave. “I still don’t remember everything,” he began, knowing how important this fact was. “I- I  _ know  _ that the memories are all there now, but there’s just  _ so many  _ of them. I lived more than just a few centuries, and- and like a mortal, it’s impossible for me to remember every detail of every experience I ever had. I think I would have gone insane by now if I did. Not just that, but… but  _ I know  _ there’s memories I have locked away that I  _ don’t  _ want to remember; things I tried to forget for no other reason than the fact that they  _ hurt.” _

“Like what?” Error questioned, angry and bitter and  _ sad.  _

Ink swallowed thickly. “...Abuse.  _ Rape.  _ I- back when my memories started to trickle in—before I even knew what they were, or who  _ I  _ was—I… I would get… these little  _ flashes.  _ After recalling Neggy— _ Negativity,  _ I thought it was him, but… I don’t know.  _ I don’t know.  _ I just… I remember too many hands, and- and being  _ degraded,  _ like- like he- they? Like whoever it was wanted to drag me off my pedestal and humiliate me the entire way down. I don’t know why, but- but I know that whatever happened, the reputation it gave me followed me into my life as Ink.”

“...Killer mentioned something about you… being active…” Cross whispered, as if being any firmer in his reply would shatter Ink. “That- that you have a reputation for…”

“Sex?” The artist shrugged, smile empty. “Ink didn’t have the best memory without a soul. I… I don’t even know what claims are  _ true.” _

Dream’s own whisper seemed so loud to Ink. “Or which may have been the result of people abusing your paints.” With the artist’s soullessness, a single sip from a pink vial could have been as potent as a hearty aphrodisiac. In hindsight, however… “Ink, how- how  _ did  _ you lose your SOUL?” 

Now  _ that _ memory… the pain, the hundreds and thousands of emotional nuances, the slow descent into unknowing himself, in unknowing the  _ worlds _ \- 

“I…”  _ Brave… be brave…  _ “It was my decision,” he murmured, though he winced when the raw curiosities grated against his eyes. “I don’t think… yeah, I’m not ready… not for that- that topic…” 

“But you…” Error squinted at him. “You, what, decided to-?” 

Gently, Ink shook his head. “It wasn’t an attempted suicide. It was very much calculated, but… I… I’m sorry… I don’t want to talk about that.” 

The silence settled over everyone again, and Reaper spoke up, “It doesn’t seem like we’re getting anywhere.” 

“Actually…” Cross winced when the gazes flicked over to him. “I think… we’ve got a basis for what we  _ should _ start talking about… Dream and Ink about Palette…?” A small, teary nod of confirmation from Dream had Cross continuing, “We’ve got four of us with bad uh…  _ intimacy _ issues… Error and I were there for years, Geno’s got stuff in his past…” At this, the guard hesitated and looked at Reaper. “There’s still the thing that happened between you and me… the… fight to the death? But, Reaps…” 

Reaper frowned a bit and shrugged, “I… don’t really have much to discuss? It sucked being there, and I’m just happy we’re out.” 

“If you don’t want to join us when we talk it out, we- we’re not going to force you, Reapsy,” Dream spoke softly, the tremble in his voice nearly gone now. “You might be repressing things far more than even you realize. Just… you know we’re here for you, right? Just like you’ve been here for us?” 

That had the god of death falling quiet in consideration before a short nod took place. “I know.” 

“So, whenever you’re ready to talk, we’ll be here to listen.” 

Now when the room fell quiet, it was… a smidge more relaxed. Error still had more glitches running through him than he wanted, Geno still wanted to shut himself in their closet until the cherry color of his body mercifully faded. Ink wanted some alone time to tentatively dip into his more… hidden memories. 

Dream wanted to  _ talk about Palette _ . With Reaper, with Error, stars, with  _ Cree _ \- 

Ah, and that would be another thing, wouldn’t it? Error’s and Geno’s and at one point, even Reaper’s flinching from hearing “Cree”. To flinch from your husband’s true name, even if it was just the nickname of it, that’s got to hurt Ink terribly, right? 

Knowing that he kept such a vital secret from the artist had to hurt, too.

Swallowing thickly against awaiting nerves, the guardian sighed. He- he didn’t want to put this off anymore than he already had. Reaper bringing Palette up as carelessly as he did wasn’t appreciated, but now that the secret was out…. Well, there were no more excuses to hide behind; no other reasons valid enough to keep Palette all for himself.

That didn’t keep the waver from his voice when he spoke, however. What a shame, too. For a moment there, Dream thought he could actually be strong. “I- I want to talk about my- about Palette.”

Ink and Error tensed, though their reasons for doing so differed. “N-”

“I want to talk about Palette,” Dream insisted, trying not to think about just how much of a lie that was. Part of him always wanted to share the news of their son with Cree, but so many years of secrecy conditioned him against it. Now, he found himself a strange, uncomfortable mixture of eager and terrified. “I…” His next words weren’t the ones he intended.

“Ink broke my heart.”

Whatever reason Error had for not wanting to hear a damned word the sunnier of the primordials had to say, it certainly died on his tongues at that surprising revelation. 

And with that same surprise, Dream swallowed his nerves and pushed on. “He…” didn’t want to go into detail about this part. About the beginning. About…  _ Negativity _ stealing Cree away again and again until Creativity just never came back. “He broke my heart. And within that week I found out I was pregnant… And of course, the child- they were his too. I didn’t- I hadn’t ever been with anyone other than him, and finding out that I-” A shudder went through him, and he took that as an opportunity to try and collect his thoughts. “I wanted to tell him. But that pain… stars, I’ve never experienced anything like it…” he met Error’s eyes, a deep sadness reflected that far too old pain back to the destroyer. “You have to understand… I was  _ Positivity.  _ I  _ am _ Positivity. And bad feelings like that- well, Creativity used to keep me sheltered.” 

It was getting easier to talk about this now, to share this with someone he felt would understand, even though everyone else was hearing it too. 

So he kept going. “I was sheltered, though I didn’t realize it at the time. Anyone or  _ thing _ that would try to hurt me just… didn’t last long, and I never bothered to wonder about it. I had Creativity and Neggy- Negativity, and the positivity from those around us, and that’s all that I wanted. All I needed. I never dated anyone other than Creativity, never had sex with anyone but him, never… really had friends other than Negativity.” 

“Oh…” came the soft exhale from Error. 

“S-so… the heartbreak  **hurt** … and I kept Palette to myself. In fact, I stopped going to the godly meetings in the First World. When it came time, my “friend” helped me give birth. And even then, I refused to attend, at least for several years.” Softly, he added, “Things start getting fuzzy though… until Reaper told me he was alive, I was struggling to remember how old he was. If he was still an infant, or if he was all grown up… even now, it’s hard to recall just why I left him…” 

A lie that Ink caught onto immediately. He might not have known about Palette, but the reason for him being-  _ abandoned  _ was a strong word. Creativity was the one that abandoned Positivity. And the golden primordial was nothing if not a good person. There was no way in any world he would willingly ditch his own kid. 

“But now- he’s  _ alive _ , Ink…! And- stars, he’s scared…! He’s alone! He-” sobs overtook him again and he hid his face in his hands. 

Error was the first one to move. Struggling to walk with the glitches getting in his way, he made his way over and draped his scarf over Dream’s head. Awkwardly, he grumbled, “There there, you golden idiot…” no malice lay in his words. Just the  _ understanding _ , and the wondering of what it must have been like? 

The destroyer had hours at a time where he would be terrified Ink wouldn’t return. Hours, sometimes days of fear that Ink would forget. That Ink would stop pretending to care. That Ink would leave them. Leave  _ him _ . 

And Dream  _ lived _ that. 

“...Pos…” Ink rasped, having eyes only for the weeping primordial before him. He wanted to- to help. That was- Posi was crying because of  _ him,  _ and he- he wanted to- he was his husband, for fuck’s sake! He should be the one closing the space between them, comforting Dream, but- but he- “I never wanted to leave you,” he confessed, but it sounded hollow. 

“Th-then why did you?!” The other, smaller skeleton demanded, curling forward to clutch Error’s scarf to his chest when it slid off his head, revealing his tears. “Why- why did you let him come between us? I… I  _ loved  _ you, Cree—” simultaneously, Error and Geno flinched, making him falter. That little issue, again. They- they should talk about that, shouldn’t they? Yes, they should-

“...Maybe we should discuss this more?” Reaper suggested, gaze jumping between primordials over Geno’s head. “If- if we talk about it, maybe it’ll… help? So…” he turned to Ink, speaking up for Dream, which he was secretly thankful for. “Why did you choose Negativity’s love over Posi? Did…” hesitation, a look shot at Dream, “...did you…  _ love  _ him?”

Geno’s gaze darted right to Ink. “You- you didn’t-  _ of course  _ you didn’t-” when Reaper’s arms tightened around him, he squirmed, shooting a questioning look at the god. 

His first husband’s voice was soft, but there was a firm undertone. “Gen,” he murmured, softening when he realized his stronger hold was making the glitch uncomfortable. Adjusting his hold, he offered a nuzzle that ended with a soft, apologetic kiss that left Geno pink in Ink’s eyes, and Reaper proud. “We- we shouldn’t judge, or- or speak for anyone else. It isn’t fair. If Inky…  _ does  _ love Negativity, then…”

“...I don’t,” Ink denied, tall form looking so small when everyone’s attention returned to him. “At least, I- no. I don’t love him.”

“Are you sure, Inky?” Reaper questioned.

The artist slumped. “...No,” he admitted, silently thankful for the push for honesty. “When I think of Negativity, I- I remember- I…” He wasn’t surprised when the first of his tears fell. “...Stars, I’m so,  _ so  _ sorry, Posi. I’m sorry, I- I swore my heart to you. I swore to be  _ loyal,  _ but- all my memories of Negativity are twisted by passion in one way or another, or violence. I- it wasn’t right, I shouldn’t have- but I-” And then came the truth. The horrible, horrible truth. “I was sleeping with him long before I left you behind.”

Suddenly, Dream was on his feet.  _ “I know!”  _ he shouted, starlight falling from sunshine eyes. “I know you were, Cree! I just want to know why that meant you have to  _ leave!” _

_ Wh… what…? _

“I’m the primordial of  _ positivity.  _ Sex falls under my domain more often than not, and even when the circumstances surrounding sexual actvity aren’t positive in nature,  _ I know what guilt feels like!  _ And I know what sex  _ smells  _ like. I… I knew you were cheating, and it  _ hurt,  _ but not because you were unfaithful. It hurt because the two people I loved the most in all the worlds didn’t have the  _ balls  _ to confront me  _ before you decided to go behind my back.  _ That- that I trusted you to confess to having such desires before you acted on them, and you didn’t.  _ That  _ hurt, and it only worsened the harder I tried to deny it, because I- I wanted to be wrong. I wanted to believe that you two would have a conversation with me so we could work something out, but… but you didn’t, and I had to realize just how useless those hopes were  _ when you left me for him!” _

“I did it to protect you!” Ink snapped back.

Golden eyes burned with anger. “Intentions don’t matter when you  _ break  _ someone in the process of protecting them! You- you should have come to me! You and Negativity should have-”

“If I didn’t break your heart,” Ink hissed, desperate for Dream to just- just  _ understand.  _ For validation of the fears he had, and justification for the actions he took to ensure they wouldn’t become reality, no matter what he had to do. “Then Negativity would have broken your  _ neck,  _ Pos. Or worse. For all I know, he would have made  _ me  _ do it. By the time I realized how far things had gotten, I was already a hundred steps behind him and he  _ knew  _ how to keep me under his thumb. He- he made me hurt you, because that was all I could do to keep you safe,  _ so I did it.  _ I broke your heart with the hope that I could come back one day and fix it, but- but he-”

“He was a hundred steps ahead of you,” Reaper said, referencing Ink’s own words. “You didn’t realize just how far his planning went; how far  _ he  _ was willing to go.”

“I know it now,” Ink whispered. His gaze set firmly on Dream, even through the tears. “It was Error and Geno and Reaper who suffered it this go-around.  _ It could have been you. _ And that could have been the way I found out about Palette. I’m  _ sorry _ , Posi. Even though I thought I was saving you from something worse.” 

“You were going to do the same thing,” Error realized. “You- you fucking idiot- you were going to sacrifice yourself- to save us three.” 

“You did it before,” Geno’s gaze was wide on Ink. “That’s how your soul…” 

Abruptly, Ink stood up. “I think that’s enough for today… More than enough actually.” 

“Ink-” Reaper began, protesting.

But the artist was having none of it. “We. Are. Done.” His tears didn’t take away from the authority in his voice. “I- we need time to actually process. We need- we’ll continue this tomorrow night. For now, I… I’m going to bed.” With that, he turned and marched out of the room, leaving the others in silence.

In a poorly timed attempt at humor, Reaper chuckled weakly, asking, “Who wants to bunk with me?”

Silently, everyone but Dream raised their hand.

_ I… I’m not leaving him alone…  _ the guardian thought. Ink may have been done sharing, but… they had a lot more to discuss, and every moment spent prolonging it left the conversation at risk of a permanent hiatus. He wasn’t going to end this session feeling like an abandoned project. 

He wasn’t going to let  _ either  _ of them run away from this.

* * *

With a sigh, the scientist faced the drippy-eyed one. A glance to those goopy tears, and to the fresh bandages on the other’s hands had him certain of two things. He was facing an addict, and someone really cared about this dangerous idiot. 

“Everything is fine with me,” he lied easily. Then, the part of him that was better than the person he was now—the one that got himself stuck in a horrible situation—surged forward, pushing him to ask, “...What about  _ you  _ though, “Kills?” How are you doing?”

Faster than he could follow, Killer  _ moved.  _ When he blinked and finally managed to process the movement, Sci found the tip of a knife threatening to pierce the obvious swell of his stomach. 

_ Do it.  _ “Easy there, pal,” he murmured.

Killer’s manic grin only widened. “You want me ta do it. Just as much as I wanna do it.” 

“Do I?” Sci raised a brow at him. There was no way he could’ve guessed it. At least, not in a definitive way. “Do  _ you? _ Because my understanding was that I’m not to be touched or harmed.” 

The knife receded a few centimeters. “For now.” 

Watching the addict stumble away, all Sci could think about was Red. And how very glad he was that his fiance wasn’t in this damnable place, suffering through what these people were suffering. 


	43. Old Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and the same old struggles regarding communication.

It didn’t take a genius to guess the two places Ink would have gone to first. But it  _ did  _ take someone who knew him through several lifetimes to figure out where he actually ended up. For all his creativity, Ink had rather cliche habits. 

Black clouds swarmed a blood red sky, and the smell of dust wafted up into the air with every step the golden primordial took towards the bar. A little known secret was the interest the artist held for the purple-fired barkeep residing in this town. To Dream’s knowledge, nothing ever really happened between the two, but their friendship used to be far closer. Apparently, something there was something about a high-paying customer and highly rated booze that kept the two in good company, but nothing more. At the very least, Ink had certainty beyond his own skill that no trouble would find him here.

Either that, or he was hoping to be caught by Red and have a fight. 

_ The idiot _ … Dream sighed to himself, stepping into the grungy bar. It was the only safe space in the entire Underfell, what with the resident Grillby’s incredible LV, and his intolerance for shit being broken in his establishment. Impressively, there was only a single table ever broken there throughout every single reset, and according to stories, the Grillby destroyed the human responsible. Since then, nothing. 

All of these thoughts passed into Dream’s mind, though he was unaware of which was fiction or reality. He didn’t care either. He wasn’t here to gaze upon his past as Dream fondly, or to drunkenly retell stories that may or may not be fables. Currently, all he cared about was the figure sitting tensely in the center of the bartop, shoulders curled forward, while the resident Grillby patiently poured another glass.

“Still pretending that anything other than paint thinner really works?”

Ink didn’t jump, merely tensed further at being addressed. “Dream, I really don’t want to do this right now. Please…” but his plea rang hollow. Even before he made his escape, Ink knew he wouldn’t be able to run from this conversation. Not when Dream was so clearly set on it. The untouched, amber liquid at his side was just another sign of his resignation. “...Sit down.”

Although the order irked him, Dream did as told. He knew he was going to have to start this conversation, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy. Thankfully, he had a drink to help him with what was to come.

_ A spoonful of honey helps the medicine go down,  _ he mused, sweetness spreading across his tongue as he sampled his drink. Mead, and as sweet as it came. A rarity in a world that savored bitterness and shunned the soft. “Thank you.”

Ink didn’t answer, but the gold he offered Grillby spoke volumes. 

_ Even now he spoils me…  _ or was it meant as an apology? A distraction? All three seemed likely. “Ink…” 

“Say what it is you came here for, Dream,” Ink murmured, letting his chin rest on the bartop. “Since you’re so insistent on-” 

“Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t start trying to push me away after all this shit. After-” Dream gritted his teeth for a moment. “You’ve got far more going on in the background than you let on. And not just now. I think you’ve always had things going on, but you  _ never _ let anyone in long enough to even try to help you. And you let yourself get into deeper and deeper trouble before you do something extreme and hurt yourself.” 

Ink looked away for a moment to watch Grillby wander over to another customer. “Your point…?” 

_ “Let us help you,” _ Dream insisted. “Take the time you need, but actually just… talk to us. Or if not us then a therapist.” 

“Pretty sure if I ever opened up to a therapist about this, they’d quit and start selling hot dogs.” 

_ That isn’t funny… _ Neither of them were laughing. With a heavy sigh, Ink faced Dream. “What do you even want me to talk about? Neggy? The abuse?  _ Palette? _ ” 

“Let’s start with your soul-” 

“No.” Ink turned away again, arms coming up to cushion his chin. 

“Cree-” 

Sharply, Ink repeated, “I’m not talking about my fucking soul. Drop it.” 

“No,” Dream shot back, setting his glass on the counter with a carefulness at odds with his firm tone. “I refuse, Ink.  _ I refuse.  _ I understand that people ought to be allowed to go at their own pace with things like this, but- but we are  _ beyond gods,  _ **Cree.** What luxuries the mortals have aren’t always allowed to us. We  _ have  _ to discuss this, otherwise it’ll just end up coming back around to bite us in the ass. And, yes, I do know how much of a hypocrite I sound like, but I am  _ trying  _ to change that. You open up to me, I do the same to you. We just… we  _ have  _ to talk, Cree.”

“And if  _ I  _ refuse? If I decide that I’m done talking? What are you going to do then,  _ Posi?”  _ Cree challenged, familiar symbols shifting into crimson kaleidoscope eyes that swirled with nauseating patterns. “Are you going to force me to talk? Will you continue to disregard my feelings for the sake of- of what? Feeding your own curiosity?  _ Helping,  _ in that insistent, overbearing way of yours?”

“It isn’t like that-”

“You know, Neggy and I… we disagreed on a lot.” Cree continued, red darkening into a black so deep that the shapes within his gaze seemed to melt into the shadows within his sockets. “I knew what we did together, behind your back, was wrong. He insisted that, if it was so wrong, then it wouldn’t feel  _ right.  _ I always wanted to tell you, he swore it was better to keep things under wraps until you were “ready to handle the truth,” or some bullshit. I wanted to help where he always wanted to  _ hurt.  _ But for every moment he and I were at odds—for all of our differences—there were things we could agree upon; secrets we felt could only be shared with one another. And do you know what one of those secrets were, Posi? What terrible little thought we both had? Shared?”

Posi didn’t answer. What little alcohol he had consumed was akin to violent waves within his stomach, forcing sickness to bubble up his throat. Desperate to keep it down, to save face, he clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly, shaking his head.  _ I don’t want to know. _

Cree smiled in a way that made him check for emerald in his eyes. “We both believed that, for all your  _ centuries  _ of experience and intense desire to help others, you were absolutely  _ terrible  _ at it. Too out of touch with the common folk, too sheltered to understand true pain… too much, too little… but never  _ enough;  _ never the helping hand that people  _ really  _ needed. And even now? It seems like you’re still stuck as that person. Every ounce of me is screaming that I don’t want to talk, and I  _ know  _ you can feel it. Hell, you even heard me say it. But you don’t care. You were never good at caring in the way people needed you to.” With an ugly sound meant to pass as laughter, the artist knocked back another drink. “Maybe that’s why Negativity was so appealing, back then? He had everything I needed. He  _ understood.” _

“...Are you done?” Posi whispered, as composed as a man could be with painful words burrowing into his heart. “Did you get everything out that you could think of to send me away, or do you want to attack me in some other way first? Do you want to poke fun of the fact that I could never make friends? Do you want to laugh over my first experience with sex? How about the blind belief I had in you, and that man I called my brother? What else do you want to weaponize against me, Cree? How far do you want to go in this cruel, horrid game? Because let me tell you this now,  _ darling:  _ This is a game where everyone loses, but that won’t stop  _ me  _ from giving as good as I get if you choose to continue this. So… tell me: How do you want this to go?”

“There are things that need to be left in the past, Dream. I want you to fucking leave them there.” 

“...Because things are so much better when left to fester. Because trauma will magically cease to exist, hurts will suddenly heal,  _ and nothing we want to hide will be used to hurt us in the future!”  _ Dream shouted, uncaring of the looks shot their way. “It sucks, Cree. It fucking  _ sucks,  _ but we can’t afford to have secrets, not right now—not when Negativity so easily wields those secrets as weapons. We. Cannot. Hide. No matter how much we want to.”

But everything he was saying went ignored, and Dream knew it. He could see every word bouncing off of Ink, like a child’s ball being thrown at the wall with full certainty it would return to their hands. Only, he didn’t want what he was saying to bounce around uselessly. More than ever, Dream didn’t want to be ignored, even if he wished he could allow Ink the secrets he so desired.

So when the artist silently stood, intending to leave, he tensed. When a portal opened, Dream didn’t hesitate. And when Ink moved…

Positivity tossed himself against him, and  _ pulled  _ even as he pushed the other through, dragging Creativity’s magic inwards.

_ I’m sorry,  _ he thought, hoping his emotions had time to register before the world around them spun…

“Posi-  _ no-!” _

...and they vanished into their memories. 

* * *

Back at the bar, Grillby watched the whole thing unfold, pausing in his cleaning of the glass just long enough to register what just happened. To himself, he grumbled, “At least they didn’t break anything…” Just for Red to storm in without his brother.  _ Night’s still young, I guess.  _


	44. Sci's Science Corner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it's time for a change in perspective!

_ Red… _

In many ways, all of this started there—with Red, and Sci’s feeling for the loud, brash, and unbearably  _ sweet  _ skeleton that hid behind a fearsome mask. While they were never necessarily friends, the two had known each other for quite some time. Long enough to roll around in bed when the desire struck, at least. Then, somewhere along the way, he realized that in defiance to all logic, Red had grown on him. They didn’t talk outside of glorified booty calls or even bother with small talk, but… those quiet moments in bed, with the scent of sex in the air and sweat starting to chill their naked bodies had been enough. Somewhere, someway… physical attraction bloomed into something more.

He didn’t act on those feelings, of course. At least, not right away. For the longest time, Sci had forced his feelings down, berating himself for catching them for a man who would never be emotionally available like that. Not for him. After all, Red’s crush on Classic was infamous, and none of the scenarios he ran offered any odds in his favor. Ultimately, he gave up on his affections without ever really striving for more, and told himself that was acceptable. He still had the sex to look forward too, didn’t he? That would have been enough.

And then, whatever demons Red had been fighting—a fight he  _ hid— _ overwhelmed him, and the anxious,  _ desperate  _ man foolishly turned towards the dark in a search for help. Ink stopped him, thankfully. For all his faults, the so-called protector at least had that moment of good going for him. The artist intercepted Red’s attempts on turning his back to all the good he strived for, and- and Sci was both thankful for the help, and  _ angry  _ that said help was needed at all. Well… no. That was a lie, and he could admit to it in the privacy of his own thoughts. While he  _ had  _ been angry at the time, it wasn’t directed at Red or Ink or even the situation. It was directed at himself.

_ You know over thirteen ways to make him come untouched, and the face he makes when he does so. You know how many fingers he can fit, and how good he stretches you when you’re the one taking it. You know that his blush darkens his ecto and the exact measurements of his breast, waist, hips, thighs, and his dick. You know more about his body than you do your own, and yet- _

_ You don’t know how to tell when he’s crying out for help.  _ And that infuriated him. 

Sci was a scientist; a  _ researcher.  _ He took pride in his chosen craft, and loved the thrill of discovery more than nearly everything else. During their time together, he sought to discover every little thing he could about Red just to realize that it was all superficial. The knowledge he had was intimate, but all it told him was how to make Red feel good when what he should have been learning was how to make him  _ happy.  _ And to realize just how much knowledge he lacked—to be met with his own shortcomings—had driven him  _ mad.  _

Realizing he could have lost Red in ways beyond death had- it had  _ terrified  _ him, and so… Sci decided on two things: 

First, he would confess his feelings with the intention of treating Red  _ right  _ should his affections be accepted. Surprisingly, this went well.

Secondly, he would ensure that, no matter what, he would  _ never  _ be left so unaware of  _ anything  _ ever again. Unsurprisingly, this went poorly.

He dug too deep, looked too far, and when he found a simple child’s tale about great beings lost to time…

One of those beings turned his way, just as interested in  _ him  _ as he was in the other. 

_ Just what is a curious thing like you doing poking in places you shouldn’t? Don’t you know these tales are just that? Oh, but you’re so insistent, aren’t you…?  _ Of course he was. He’d lived countless resets, and something like a boogeyman in the dark scared him as much as the murderous human did. Which is to say, not at all. He was fascinated with the creature. With the three of them. With their dramatic and nearly Undernovela-esque story. Of “betrayal and heartbreak!” he used to chuckle to himself in his office. 

And then, he saw firsthand just what kind of story  _ truly  _ occurred. Being  _ ripped _ from reality and thrown carelessly into the dark primordial’s memories. Years upon years of heartbreak and pain so intense that he literally carved into his own soul. 

When Sci had been brought back from that, he couldn’t bear to see anybody for a while. Even the thought of seeing Red’s own SOUL was too intensely horrible. Nothing near so bad as happening upon Ink wearing  _ Red’s _ collar. And being approached by the initial, terrible creature that had so intrigued him. “I want a child,” it whispered. If Sci were a writer, he probably would have described it as a whisper of desperation, though the creature spoke it more as a command. 

The idea of telling it “no” was, of course, in the forefront of Sci’s mind. He was loyal to Red. They became engaged the moment the scientist was able to get the Fell Sans back into his own arms. There was no way he would consider- except… that threat… 

Sci was the one that attracted the beast’s attention, and he was  _ not _ about to let it go  _ near _ Red. Not after Ink saved him the first time. Not after Ink killed him. He wasn’t going to let Red and the dark creature in the same room, if he could help it. 

Even if it meant giving himself to it. A willing sacrifice. An oven for the bun it placed within him. 

And, stars above, he  _ tried  _ to hate it. He tried. He considered over a hundred different ways to get rid of it. He perfected a dozen different potions to do the same. He knew that, the moment it was born, the creature would likely steal it away, and both himself and his fiance would become expendable. So, horribly, he suggested spying on the husbands. It was an off thing that he almost hoped the creature wouldn’t consider. More than that, he guiltily prayed that it  _ would  _ agree, if only to save his own ass. 

For an intelligent Sans, Sci really was an idiot. At least, that’s what he told himself as a punishment. Not that anybody else noticed. Or cared. 

Oh but he was getting side tracked… why was he down this hall…? A hand on his stomach brought his attention back to that little bundle of lies. The one where he told himself he would hate it. The one where he told Red that it was most definitely his, all while begging whatever deities that may be out there—other than the one he served—to let them be birthed with crimson eyes, not green. The one where he said he couldn’t possibly bring himself to care any less for the husbands he was spying on. The one where he told himself he was doing the right thing for the right reasons.

_ “Tell me, mare. What’s going on within the household this week? What distractions just might hold their attention?” _

_ “...The device is working,” he began with, thinking back to all those months ago—to all those examinations of the twins, the realization that little Marigold’s health was failing him… and the terrible choice he made the very day he was allowed into that child’s household to teach his siblings. “His health seems to be degrading slowly enough that it hasn’t caught any attention, and- and the device is  _ ensuring  _ it’ll be too late once they realize his condition. By that time, the child won’t have enough magic to sustain himself.” _

_ “Oh? So they truly have no knowledge of just what’s happening, right under their nose?” _

_ “The godling—Goth—seems to sense it, somehow, but they’ve disregarded his claims given that they themselves can’t sense anything. However, Goth’s insistence does seem to trouble them. They’re worried, but magic depletion is a subtle condition with discreet symptoms.” _

_ “But they  _ are  _ concerned?” _

_ “Yes, my lord.” _

_ Negativity smiled. “Well, that’s certainly distracting then. Tell me, mare… is there room in the cage for one more?” _

Bypassing the crib that the nursery within Negativity’s private wing of the castle held, Sci made his way to what looked to be a simple closet, and unlocked the door. A dark, dreary descent into shadows met him, and he sighed. “At this stage, these stairs are a real hassle…” but that didn’t stop him from fishing out a flashlight and making his way down, down, down…

Eventually, he reached what couldn’t be described as anything other than a dungeon. Barred cells lined the walls, but it was the door at the very end of the hall that drew his attention. There. That was the one. 

His steps seemed so loud as he walked. Beneath the idle hand on his stomach, the child within him squirmed, as if sensing his own nerves.  _ There’s no going back after this.  _ In truth, the point of no return was reached long ago. Signing Marigold’s life away, the surgery he aided with yesterday… those were things he could truly never be forgiven for. This? This was just the cherry on top of a sundae he didn’t fucking deserve, but asked for all the same.

His keys jingled as he unlocked and drew open the door.

“Heya.” __


	45. Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ink and Dream share a few memories.

When they finally landed, it was in a blank white void. 

Instantly, Ink’s panic was near palpable, as it always was when he entered an empty room, or any void like this. It didn’t really matter what color, or lack thereof, was painted upon the walls. The panic would just take over. It was something that Dream couldn’t remember from when he was Posi, but it was something he knew all too well in more recent memories of Ink. 

He snatched the artist’s hand and shoved them further into the past.  _ Where is it…? _ Dream looked around desperately.  _ Where is the memory of him losing his SOUL…?  _

Flashes went by. Pink paint and purple emotions, the emptiness and the chills, and the loss of memories. A persistent dark room, no notes. Soon, something flickered into view. Multiple somethings. Multiple  _ memories.  _ Fragmented and showing all at once. 

“If you’re so insistent on seeing my past,” Ink growled shakily, “Then pay attention, because I won’t let you in this close  _ ever _ again.” 

Dream withheld a flinch, knowing that there was no going back after this. In many ways, this was a violation. A person’s memories were sacred, and yet he was- “...I’m sorry…”

_ “I’m sorry, Cree!” Posi sobbed, a robe not his own draped over his shoulders like a security blanket. Alone in his room—their room—his broken, watery voice reached no ears but his own. “I- I’m sorry, so- please. Please, come back. I’ll be better, I- I’ll do anything! Please,  _ please  _ just- just…” starlight tears turned to coal. “...Don’t leave me alone…” _

That very skeleton jerked back now, stepping out of the past with tears wetting his cheeks. Ink watched him solemnly, a bitter smile on his face as if he couldn’t quite help but relish seeing Dream having a taste of his own medicine. 

“Careful,” he warned, far too late. “You’re here to see  _ my  _ memories, aren’t you? So don’t let yours steal the spotlight.”

“I… I-”

“Don’t know what magic you’re messing with. I stumbled my way back into this specific ability in the castle, and I’m glad there was too much going on to  _ really  _ explore it any further. Getting stuck in the past…” Ink sneered, bitter and  _ angry  _ at the situation Dream put them in. 

It shamed him, and scared him as well.  _...I’m doing this for our family…  _ he told himself, and that was, in fact, the truth. 

It was painfully obvious how much their secrets hurt them, and Dream knew that, whatever Ink was hiding, it would only hurt them all later. He didn’t want to cross this line. He didn’t want to hurt Ink, or earn his ire. But Negativity wouldn’t laze about forever, and he was so tired of being two steps behind. If possible, he wanted to save their family from whatever the future might hold.

_...I just… don’t know if Ink will ever welcome me back into it after this… _

“...Show me,” he whispered, resigning himself to whatever came about once all this was done. “Show me, and- and then I’ll show you everything  _ I  _ hid in turn.” An offer. A request for forgiveness.

_ Open yourself to me, and I’ll open myself to you.  _ An eye for an eye.

“Please, Ink.  _ Please.” _

The artist stared at him. No that wasn’t quite right… the being before him was most definitely Creativity. Which was a little silly, they were the same person, but… something about the way Ink held himself in that moment just… 

It was as though the concept of age found a body. 

Creativity took a step aside and turned his gaze away just as the world came into view around them. 

Each of them were… quick. Unrefined, or rather, low rez as though in an effort on Cree’s part to forget them. Moments of good dwarfed by pain. Pleasure twisted and polluted until all that remained was a broken skeleton that survived despite the injuries that should have dusted him. It took Dream moments longer than he wanted to realize that the visuals held no audio. It took another few grotesque moments for him to be thankful for that. Until the image finally settled, that is. 

_ Neggy stared at him with a mocking version of pity. “Oh Cree… what have you gotten yourself into?” The pains and the paints had faded then, though emotions grew warmer when Neggy produced the-  _ **_his_ ** _ soul. “Silly boy… were you looking for this again? You know I keep you close to my own heart,” he sneered.  _

_ Cree sat up, shivering at the horrible noises resulting from the movement. “My-”  _

_ “No… it’s  _ mine _. Remember, lover? Your soul is mine. Your infidelity is mine. Your body, your powers,  _ **_you._ ** _ You are mine. And yet you let those lowly creatures play around with you?” He chuckled softly. “Oh, you’ve fallen so.”  _

_ Somehow, this felt like deja vu, though Cree couldn’t quite place it. Not until Neggy tucked his soul back into his own ribcage.  _ This has happened before… _ and it was horrible to realize such a thing.  _

Flashes of that happened over and over. 

_ “Don’t worry, lover…”  _

Again. 

_ “I won’t let them hurt you.”  _

And again. 

_ “You’re safe with me.”  _

And again. 

_ “You’re  _ **_mine_ ** _ after all.”  _

And again. 

_ “Mine to love.”  _

Again. 

_ “Mine to lease.”  _

**A g a i n.**

_ “Mine.”  _

Dream couldn’t tell if these were in a chronological order. It… didn’t seem like it. It seemed tied by events, or certain pains. After a moment, he kicked himself for trying to analyze this logically instead of sympathizing with Ink. This- this wasn’t love- 

As if hearing his thoughts, an older memory exploded onto the scene, with  _ Cree’s gaze twinkling as he slammed the door open to Neggy’s private study. It must have been before all that other horrible stuff happened, since his gaze was still bright, despite the lingering sadness at what must have been Posi’s absence. “I made a new world!”  _

_ With a heavy sigh, Neggy muttered, “Welcome in, love. What was it you wanted to discuss?”  _

_ “I made a new world! It’s been a while, but I did it! Wanna see it?”  _

_ “After this paperwork. Since apparently I’m the only one on the council that cares for such things.”  _

_ “That’s not true! Little Asgore’s taken by the paperwork too!”  _

_ Negativity didn’t deem to answer that.  _

_ Cree sulked and moved forward to tug at his arm. “C’mon, take a break from that and see this world! I call it Haventale!” hesitantly, he added, “I made it to try and get Posi-”  _

_ “To return?” Negativity snapped, ripping his arm from the first Primordial’s grip. “He’s  _ **_gone_ ** _ , Cree, and not even I can find him.”  _

_ Wide kaleidoscope eyes dimmed a little, and Cree seemed to shrink within his posture. “I… I know that-”  _

_ “Then why do you insist on hurting me by making shit for someone who abandoned you?”  _

Something within Dream  _ ached  _ at that.  _ Abandoned…? _

At the thought, molten gold swept away the memory before them, though Negativity’s figure managed to stand tall even as everything around him melted away. Then, his scowl fixed itself into a smile and his clothing changed; still fine, but different. Before either could question it, he turned to a half-remembered doorway where Positivity stood, tearful.

_ “Oh… sweet little brother, darling Posipaws…” the elder primordial crooned, crossing the room to pull the other into an embrace. “Have you been crying again? I could feel your misery from the other end of the multiverse.” _

_ “I dreamed of him…” Positivity whispered, gentle voice made rough with thick sorrow. He didn’t so much as lean into Negativity’s embrace as he fell into it, worn from crushing emotion that weakened him more and more every day, turning gold into coal and white bone grey with depression. When he blinked, sticky black dears dribbled from dulled sockets. “I… it was such a sweet dream…. We were dancing in the orchard, weaving through the trees that we went on to pull fruit from once hunger set in. He fed me apples--the sweet, golden skinned ones I love so much. It was- it was lovely.” _

_ “But when you woke, he was still  _ gone.” 

_ The reminder made the other skeleton cry harder. “Why did he leave me, Neggy? Why- why doesn’t he want me anymore? You- you talked to him, right? You told him I wouldn’t mind sharing his love with you? I- I may not be enough on my own, but- but I won’t deny him what he desires! I just- I want to be there, too! I… I don’t want to be alone…” Those blackened tears fell anew, and he raised a hand from the slightest swell of his stomach to wipe them. “...I don’t want his child to grow up without a father…” _

_ “Posi…” Negativity whispered, stroking his skull like a parent would a child. “I spoke to him. I did. But… oh, Posipaws, it’s too late. Cree… he doesn’t want a complicated lifestyle, not anymore. And when you ran off… well, it broke his heart. In the end, he decided on me and… and my own joy pains me when I know it tortures you so. I’m happy,” he admitted, “and how horrible is that? My own brother weeps for the love I’ve been given, and I’m  _ happy.  _ Stars, I- I shouldn’t be. I should- I should shake sense into him, or at least-” his voice wavered, “...I should convince him to return to you…. I don’t deserve him after how we hurt you, and I… this could be my repentance for…” he looked away, ashamed. _

_ “...He… he really is happy with you, isn’t he....?”  _

_ Negativity smiled sadly, apologetically. “Will you ever forgive me for my selfishness? I… I was too afraid to confess our attraction, and it hurt you worse as a result. And now… I’m the reason he  _ **_abandoned_ ** _ you, and your child. Well…” here, the emerald eyed skeleton hesitated.  _

_ Positivity noticed. “Wh… what…?” _

_ “Cree decided that he wanted a traditional family instead…” Negativity began, slowly as if to deal the final blow gently. “He won’t accept you back, but… but if he learns of your child…” _

_ “He’ll take me?” Posi questioned, hopeful. _

_ But the other shook his head, his next words chilling. “He may take the child for himself, insisting that he and  _ **_I_ ** _ raise them. And Posi, my darling brother, I… I may be a selfish man, but I cannot steal that from you as well.” _

_ “Cr-Cree- Cree wouldn’t-” _

_ “Oh, honey…” Negativity crooned. “You thought he wouldn’t abandon you either, but look what happened. So, if you want to raise your child… if you want to keep the last piece of Cree you’re allowed… then  _ **_hide,_ ** _ little brother. Hide yourself, and the little one you carry.” _

_ “I- but-” _

_ “Posi…” _

_ He was afraid, though. Posi was- he- “I don’t know how to raise a child, brother.” _

_ Negativity smiled. _

_ “I’ll help, of course.” _

The next images flickered by as mere glimpses. Evidently, they were memories a little too painful for Posi to allow himself to remember. Palette’s birth. Positivity’s sobbing and  _ Negativity holding their son first _ . Cooing little words that Creativity wasn’t able to hear or piece together. Negativity taking a very long time to finally pass the newborn over to Positivity. 

_ “I’ll keep your secret safe, little brother…” he proclaimed softly.  _

Positivity had told him “an eye for an eye”, but didn’t he know that would make the world blind? Ink wasn’t doing this to hurt him, or to feel the hurt himself. Not… entirely. Despite everything, the artist  _ did not _ want to go into this. He didn’t want to feel these things, to experience them again, to  _ know _ . The moment Reaper had mentioned their kid, and Dream confirmed it, there wasn’t a sliver of doubt in his mind that Negativity found a way to fuck them over again. But… “What happened to him…?” his voice was raw, and far quieter than Ink had intended. 

“What happened to your SOUL?” Dream murmured back, the heat that was in his voice far earlier, gone now. “Because I…” A small sigh, the guardian glanced back to their surroundings and watched as the same memory he was about to describe flicker into view. 

_ “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, little star,” Posi smiled shakily at his son. “But I’ll come back, okay? Just get some rest and stay here.”  _

_ The boy, the teenager? It wasn’t easy to tell, but he blinked sleepily and asked, “Honeybuns…?”  _

_ “You can have some of those in the morning,” Posi sounded amused-  _

_ “Mama, why’re you turning blue again?” He started to sit up a bit. “Have some honey tea with me, that’ll make you happy yellow again.”  _

Oh how sweet is he…? _ “How about I have some with you in the morning? We can have honey tea and honey buns-”  _

_ “Pancakes?”  _

_ With a light laugh, Posi nodded. “And pancakes.” He leaned forward and kissed his son’s head. “Get some rest now, okay? I’ll wake you when everything- when I come back.”  _

_ Ever the trusting child, Palette yawned and nodded, settling back into his bed to go to sleep. And though it… probably wasn’t a good idea. It probably wasn’t- no it definitely wasn’t consented upon, Posi reached into Palette’s magic and pushed him into a deeper sleep. “One that will slow time for you,” he whispered tearfully. “So I don’t miss a thing of you growing up…”  _

“Oh Pos…” Ink murmured, gaze fixed on the unclear image of the child-teen in the memory as it faded. “I asked you to make that sacrifice… and you- you…” 

Dream couldn’t feel the sadness so much anymore. The tears just dripped. “I don’t know if I regret it,” he murmured honestly. “I don’t know if him growing up without me is a better idea, or him going into a near eternal sleep was better. I just… I didn’t want to lose him. And when you came to me-” 

Before them,  _ that _ memory played. It wasn’t as drawn out, since they were both remembering it. 

Cree catching up to Posi in what used to be one of their favorite spots. Posi had been going there more often since Negativity kept the first primordial from much of what he used to love. It was luck that Posi was there when Cree went looking for him more seriously. And begged for his help.  _ “He’s getting out of control. He- Pos, he  _ **_carved_ ** _ into his own soul and he won’t let me heal it, but… I think if we put the three of us together, it’ll heal and Neggy can- he’ll get better.”  _

“But that’s not quite what happened,” Dream whispered, watching the scene. 

Tiredly, Ink nodded. “It isn’t. You want to know how I lost my SOUL?” He waved the memories away, willing the space around them back to the void state that put him on edge. The artist met Dream’s gaze. “It wasn’t intentional… but my soul became your prison. And the catalyst for everything you knew as Dream.” 


	46. Surprise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Neggy schemes and the readers (hopefully) scream.

When he wakes, it’s to a darkened room he doesn’t recognize, but finds familiar all the same. Through his blearly gaze, he finds cold, jagged rock on the walls and simple, dusty concrete beneath, but… but he knows. It’s in the way that the shadows are too dark, and how he finds himself shivering due to more than just the cool air, though a quick glance down offers another reason for the chill: For whatever reason, he’s nearly nude. 

Nearly, because the short, paper-thin gown he wears offers no protection against the cold. Given the way that his ass is especially frigid, it’s the type that splits right down the back, and the extra exposure worsens his overall experience. 

_This… certainly wasn’t what I was expecting…_ Is what Reaper’s first thought is, and he clings to it with a desperation he has no desire to analyze. He knows damn well that if he lets himself think—if he _really_ processes his situation—he’ll panic, and he can’t afford to do so just yet. _‘What… what… happened…?’_ Answers. Before anything else, he needs to gather a few answers.

Sitting up is harder than it should be, but he pushes at the ground until he manages it, though the effort leaves him nauseous. He hurts. Stars, he just…  _ hurts.  _ And when he gags on the nausea, even that aches something fierce. “Something… something is… wrong.”

It’s painful, but his own comment makes him laugh. Not because it’s necessarily funny, but because it’s so easy to imagine Error’s scowl, and the fond annoyance he would speak with as he says,  _ “No shit!”  _ It was enough to bring a fleeting smile to his face.

“Error…” he whispered, throat dry and voice hoarse. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out for, but he suspects that it hasn't been too long. While it’s fuzzy, he remembers a nasty hit to the head—and his skull still throbs with the pain. However long it’s been, he hasn’t had the time to recover in even the slightest. “H-heh,” there’s a hysterical note to the chuckle, “I guess he  _ really  _ doesn’t like sharing his medicine…”

Briefly, he thinks of the scars on Geno’s cheeks, and even the nasty wound across Cross’ eye. Neither had been allowed to heal. Would he have a scar on his skull after this?

Would he live long enough to see it?

And just like that, the panic hits. Just the- the prospect of dying here, or- or  _ worse  _ leaves him breathless, and terror strikes when his attempt to curl jingles clunky chains connected to the shackles on his ankles—one higher than the other to account for his golden anklet. He can’t breathe, the darkness is closing in, and- and- 

“H-heh, I- I get it, buddy. You- you’re afraid, with good reason, but… can you maybe just- just…  _ not?  _ My stomach really can’t handle it. Good to see y-you awake, though. Been some time since I’ve had… had some company.”

The voice reaches him through his panic, and Reaper flinches. It- that voice…. It’s Ink’s, but not. It’s- it’s Ink’s and Dream’s, but too high to belong to either one of them, and distinct enough to be something all on it’s own. Negativity then? Some- some cruel, horrible attempt at the mimicry he so loves to abuse? The thought doesn’t relax him whatsoever.

“C-calm- calm down, buddy. Um… breathe? Please?”

The thought of Negativity saying  _ please  _ is enough to calm him, just a bit. Breaths ragged, he tries to follow the voice, forced to squint through the darkness just to do so. He’s expectant of horrible things, but… the figure he sees off in the dark doesn’t have tendrils, and they’re not shaped like anyone he knows.  _ Too tall to be Geno or Dream, too short to be any of the others… a skeleton, but… not proud.  _ They look like him; a pitiful, curled mess crumpled in the corner.

“...Wh… who…?” tugging weakly on the thick chains leashing him to the ground, he gathered courage that was leaving him rapidly and crawled across the too-cool floor, trying to get closer. “Who are you?” Another fucking trap? A friend?

That same confusing blend of Ink and Dream’s voice murmured out, “Who are  _ you?  _ Actually, I don’t care…. I think I would have, a while ago… but...” The voice trailed off, as if it-  _ he _ had far more he wanted to ask, yet held no more energy within himself to even bother. 

Filthy moonlight filtered in from the tiniest window near the ceiling, and Reaper was able to make out the stranger’s face, and this- 

“Palette... the  _ real _ Palette…” Reaper breathed, though it wasn’t a small child watching him with starlight eyes. No, it was… not a man, but close; a youngling still stuck in the awkward years of adolescence. “You’re… you’re Palette…” And his own certainty broke his heart. 

Ink could be seen in the shape of the other’s sockets, while Dream seemed to influence the curves of his face and- and that familiarity hurt when yellow-green bruises colored a not yet grown frame, and eerie black lines pulsed across what should have been untouched bone, like a spider web of corruption and sick. The more he followed those lines, the further they seemed to go, making it clear that whatever the infection was, it left little unaffected. This- this  _ boy,  _ this  _ teenager, _ was hurt, and alone, and nearly nude in the dark with little more than soiled, dirtied robes to keep him warm. It- it hurt to look at. And, unwillingly, left him suspicious.

The teen in place of the child he expected made him… nervous. The whole reason he ended up in this situation was because- because- “You’re not three.”

“Am I supposed to be…?” Palette mumbled, head lolling back against the wall.

The thing was, Reaper didn’t actually know. Dream seemed to think that Palette was meant to be a child—a  _ younger  _ child than this. But, Dream’s memories still weren’t the clearest, either. And the child he thought had been  _ this  _ older-child was- “My head hurts…”  _ Confusing. It was too confusing. _

“Mine too.” 

Stars, that- that was… upsetting. It was still hard to see in all this inky shadow, but… his skull looked injured too. Cracked. “...Are you okay, kiddo?”

“M’not a kid.” But that petulant tone said otherwise.

Thoughts racing and emotions going haywire, Reaper chuckled weakly. “Yeah? How old are you then?”

He waited, but the question didn’t even seem to register with Palette. Now, he was slouched back against the brick wall, eyes closing. Half out of concern but also not wanting to be alone, Reaper tried to get him to wake up more, but it didn’t work. Within seconds, Palette was asleep. Stars…  _ Palette. _

If that was truly who this child even was…

His uncertain thoughts were interrupted by a quiet jingle. Seeking out the sound, Reaper shifted in front of the prone teenager just as his gaze landed on a door.  _ He… he’s coming in…  _ or so he thought.

Because when the door opened, it was a familiar figure who entered, but not the one he was expecting. “Heya,” Sci greeted.

Reaper blinked, his surprise interrupting every instinct he had. Rather than prepare for some attack or ready to make a move himself, he foolishly faltered at the sight of the shorter skeleton; of a  _ friend.  _ “Sci…?” he whispered, certain that, no, it couldn’t be him. 

But- but why would Negativity take this form? Out of every option he could have chosen, why  _ Sci?  _ It didn’t make sense. 

The scientist smiled blandly as he entered the room. The door shut behind him with an unsettling  _ thud,  _ but he didn’t jump like Reaper did. No, he just… stood there. Smiling.  _ Watching.  _

Reaper didn’t like it.

“What do you want?” he asked with a glower, SOUL pounding in his chest.  _ This is a trick, right? It’s Negativity, and he- he demands respect.  _ Titles such as  _ master,  _ or whatever would humiliate Reaper the most. “I- what’s going on, damnit? You’ve left us alone for- for  _ months,  _ so why take me now?” He jolted with a shot of panic. “Is- is it just-  _ did you take my family too, Negativity?!” _

How pitiful that his voice left him as a wavering, cracking  _ squawk,  _ like some child on his way to becoming a man.

Sci’s smile grew, but it didn’t get any happier. His expression was… half-hearted at best, and empty at worst. “Actually, my name is Sci. I know you’re… probably confused, but this isn’t a trick, Reaper. It’s me.”

No, he wasn’t. Because- because— “Sci wouldn’t be here. Sci wouldn’t- he wouldn’t  _ be here,  _ dammit! I don’t believe you.” Reaper refused to.

After all, it wasn’t just that Sci was someone he considered his friend that made this whole situation so impossible. It- it was the trust they placed in him. Not just Reaper, but Ink and Error and- and  _ Geno,  _ among the others. They let him into their home, allowed Sci to examine them, and they- they  _ let him near the children.  _ Hell, he saved Merci’s  _ life!  _ So, this couldn’t be Sci.

“...I don’t believe you…” he whispered, but the betrayal he felt said otherwise. “Stars, Sci…  _ why?  _ Why would you…?”

“I’m not here to talk about myself.” Exchanging a set of keys for a pair of gloves, Sci slid his hands into the latex before straightening. “Hands on your lap, no sudden movements. I’ve come to examine your back, and I  _ will _ make use of the sedatives I have on my person if you try to attack me, though I hope you wouldn’t attempt such a thing on a pregnant individual.”

“Sci-”

“And no talking. Oh, and no movements, either. The medication I used on you should be wearing off soon. You probably ache, huh? Well, that’ll feel a lot worse if you start squirming, so just… stay put. I want to ensure that the procedure went well and that you’re healing.”

“Procedure…?” Reaper whispered.

The scientist tried for a grim smile, then it wavered. With a quiet sigh, Sci mumbled a quiet “I can’t do this,” that Reaper wasn’t meant to hear, and slid to the ground with a bit of difficulty. “...Look, there… there isn’t an easy way to break this to you, okay? I- I told myself I’d do it like a bandaid, but…” he sighed again. “...You deserve some kindness, at least.”

_ “What procedure-” _

“No, don’t call it that,” Sci interjected, though Reaper was only copying the word he himself had used. “A procedure… they’re typically meant to  _ help.  _ What this was… it was cruelty, plain and simple.”

“S-Sci,  _ please,  _ just- what did-  _ what are you talking about?” _

Gently, Sci offered the truth. 

“He took your wings, Reaper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...We swear that happy ending will come. Until then...
> 
> :)


	47. Stranger With a Familiar Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything is perfectly normal back at home.

It was silly, but Geno felt like quite the jilted husband when he awoke the morning following  _ The Talk  _ just to realize that they were missing two skeletons from both the cuddle pile in his room, and the house in general.  _ Dream and Ink didn’t come home…  _ he noted, sighing to himself as he finished his rounds, double checking on all the other occupants. Paperjam and Goth asleep in their room, Spright exchanging gooey parting kisses with Res downstairs, the twins dreaming away in the same room as-

“Mornin’ Gen,” Reaper greeted, speaking around a yawn.

It shouldn’t have startled him so much, but he was certain Reaper needed to leave early for work… right? Was it  _ early _ that he needed to leave, or was it just… Geno couldn’t find himself remembering. As much as he used to pride himself in being on top of everything happening within his family, there was just…  _ a lot  _ going on right now, and after last night…. Well, his thoughts were a bit scrambled. 

Speaking of last night, he found that he also couldn’t look Reaper in the face just yet.  _ The Talk _ was… uncomfortable and humiliating, but necessary. He felt like they didn’t get as far as they should have—or even as far as they wanted to—but what progress they made wasn’t easy by any means. Still, there was just… just  _ so much  _ left to discuss.  _ Will we ever get to that point?  _ He wondered, trying to shake his doubts away. 

“Good morning, Reaps…” Geno responded quietly, checking on the twins. If his estimation was right, from his experience with his pregnancy with Goth, then sometime tonight or tomorrow, his ecto should be  _ gone.  _ No more large, fleshy mounds that pressed against his shirt uncomfortably, no more hiding in in layers in an attempt to pretend like they couldn’t be seen…. Just, no more stupid, senstive, utterly  _ mortifying  _ additions with ugly scars that told all his secrets with a single glance. Soon enough, all of that would be gone. 

_ Finally. _

He focused his attention back on the twins, noting how Merciful stirred in her sleep the closer he got while her brother slept soundly. Once Geno was actually  _ at _ their crib, Merci was awake and yawning widely with the tiniest of squeaks. “Good morning to you too,” he cooed, smiling down at her.

“Bah…” Merciful offered, grinning up at him with those strange, swirling eyelights of hers. 

Briefly, Geno wondered if Ink’s genetics just… picked a shape at random. And if they did, what were the odds that Marigold’s eyes couldn’t decide on a single one, just like his father? Well, one of his fathers. “Hey there, baby girl,” he greeted, careful hands smoothing over her little skull.  _ No fever, no strange chills…  _ Nothing of concern that he could see, which was… good. Very good!

What  _ wasn’t  _ good was the way he nearly dropped her when arms slid around his waist from behind, and a chin planted itself on his head. “Why do you even do that, Gen? She isn’t the one Gothy is all up in arms about.” 

Forcing himself to relax into the hold, the glitch frowned. “I… I  _ know  _ that, Reaps. But… but just because he doesn’t  _ seem  _ sick doesn’t mean that Mari isn’t. And- and if he is, what if it’s contagious? What if Merci catches it?” 

During Goth’s infancy, there was never any concern of him picking up illnesses from any outside sources. Well, that was a bit of a lie. At first, they worried over what terrible things Reaper himself might bring about. As Death, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be surrounded by sickness and disease, and that was frightening for many reasons. What if Reaper brought home something that passed onto Goth? What then? Just the thought of something happening had been horrifying, though their fears ended up being unfounded. While they took steps to be careful, nothing ever resulted from their fears as Goth remained as healthy as any other child.

While obviously a plus, this meant that Geno had to think back even further to the last infant he had ever cared for: His very own brother. Those memories were especially painful given…. Anyways, he could faintly recall instances where En- Papyrus fell to one sickness or another simply due to there being too many monsters in too little space. Adults, other children… even Geno himself. Before Papyrus managed to build up his immune system, he had been subjected to a fair share of colds and other forms of illness; and all because of proximity to others.

“...Maybe… maybe the twins should sleep in separate rooms…” he whispered, already picturing Merciful’s sunny disposition dampening as a direct result of whatever Mar may or may not be suffering from passing onto her. “Stars, what are we doing? She should have been in a separate room all this time. Reaps, what- what if she really  _ does  _ catch something?” 

“If we thought that was possible, then she wouldn’t be allowed to sleep in the same room as him, silly.” Reaper said in a lighthearted attempt at reassurance. It didn’t work.If anything, the teasing name left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“Well excuse me for being worried.” Cradling Merci close, Geno pulled himself from an embrace that seemed like it didn’t want to let him go and made his way out with the kitchen in mind. At seven months, Merci was finally completely weaned from his milk, though her twin was lagging behind, having to take most of his meals as bottled formula. “I’m going to give Merci her breakfast before I start on some for the rest of us.”

“I’ll help!” Reaper said, leaving Geno to wonder if he was ignoring the obvious signs that stated just how appreciated his company was.

Not that Geno wasn’t happy to have him around! It was just… Reaper was a wonderful husband, but a  _ touchy  _ one. And while he often did his best to accommodate their varying moods and needs, sometimes certain hints just… went over his head. Rarely, but it still happened.

But Geno didn’t have the heart to turn him away. “...Thanks.”

Reaper smiled.

* * *

_ What’s the matter, little Genocide? Don’t want to wound your darling lover?  _ Biting back a chuckle he wouldn’t be able to explain, Negativity simply stretched the face he wore into a smile and followed after the glitch. “Want me to feed Merci for you? That way, you can go ahead and get started on the food.”    


“I can do both at once.”

_ Stubborn.  _ “I know you can, Ge. I do. But I don’t have to leave for work just yet, so… let me help?”

“I don’t  _ need  _ help, Reaper. It’s just- feeding Merci, and getting breakfast ready. I’ve done it easily enough for a while now, and I can do it again now.”

Sliding a gentle expression over his iration, Negativity reached out and cupped the glitch’s cheek. Lightly, lovingly even, he ran his thumb over smooth bone interrupted by deep, ugly scarring and had to twist his pleased smile into something sweet. “Geno…” he crooned, more than used to this voice by now. This form was one of his favorite’s to torment the glitch with back in his castle.

“I…”

“Wasn’t the whole point of last night to… I don’t know, get better? To learn to trust each other? You trusted us with your most painful memories, Ge…” and oh, just how sweet was his humiliation? “If you can do that, then…  _ please,  _ Geno: Trust me with something like this, too. It’s just breakfast, isn’t it?”

“I don’t  _ need  _ the help though,” Geno denied before giving in with a quiet sigh, turning his head to press a quick, hesitant kiss to Negativity’s palm. “Could you set the table? We’ve got pancakes in the freezer, so a couple seconds in the microwave and breakfast is done.” 

“Just pancakes?” For a moment, it seemed like the glitch intended on ignoring him as Geno stepped back and turned away, though “Reaper” caught a hint of something about fruit and coffee being part of it.  _ So... simple. Is this truly how you lot live?  _ Honestly, he expected more from a household that included a set of primordials and a god. “Sure thing, want me to take those out too?” 

With the glitch preoccupied with the coffee maker and getting a can of unpleasant looking baby food out for Merci, he didn’t deem to respond, though the hint of irritation in both his expression and emotion spoke volumes. Tch, it seemed like his acting was starting to slip. 

_ Of course he expects me to do such a thing,  _ he should have known that, but Negativity smiled anyways, allowing himself a bit of leeway where he would have punished someone else had they been in his place. Besides, it wasn’t a hard task to correct himself and continue this game. He usually had Killer and Horor do things like this, yes, but he wasn’t a fool and knew how to go about operating a microwave and setting a table. Although, after doing so, the dark guardian found it to be… lacking. 

_ No wine. _ Well, of course not. With the various children running amok here, and the… less than stellar experiences each of them had with his wine… well, disappointing was one word for it. Expected, was probably another. 

Still, he could handle going without his preferences for the sake of his own entertainment, and the beeping of the microwave soon distracted him anyways since it eventually drew everyone into the room. Quickly, he noted that little Posi and his  _ darling  _ Cree still weren’t among their ranks, but Negativity couldn’t find it within himself to care. With disdain, he considered the idea that they were probably out fucking their worries and woes away. Truthfully, the thought brought about no small amount of ire, though he was still quite excited about the idea of neither of them being able to tell him apart from Reaper. And that any slips or miscalculated reactions today wouldn’t be called out-

“Grgl…” 

The small noise drew Negativity’s attention back onto the younger of the twins.  _ The empath… She's the one that shows promise.  _ Though those… well, for a lack of a better word,  _ swirly _ eyes lead him to think she might have bad eyesight either now or later on. It was so difficult to tell when a skeleton’s eyes were such a strange thing. Voids like his bird’s didn’t necessarily mean blindness, so strange shapes and swirls may not indicate as such, either. Still… 

_ I wonder… Can she see things like her father can? Or is it merely a sensing quality due to her mother?  _ As fond as he was of the…  _ uses  _ Genocide offered, there was little he felt that the glitch truly had to offer in terms of strength. Breaking him had been so easy.  _ I wonder how his daughter would fair in his place…?  _

A tug on his arm distracted him, “Daddy, we’re gonna go flying today right?” Geno whispered.

Turning his gaze downwards, Negativity stifled yet another laugh, though this one was rather difficult to contain.  _ Oh, those darling wings…  _ so similar to the ones he wore now, though much smaller for obvious reasons. “Don’t you have class today, little bird?”

A telling silence from the small child. Then, “After?”

It wouldn’t be difficult to command the wings attached to his back to fly. It  _ would  _ be uncomfortable, however. And as much as he favored such tastes as pain, he had little desire to experience it for himself. “I’m not sure, Gothy. I have work today, remember?” 

Just like that, the child’s hope collapsed into disappointment. “But- but you promised you’d take me again soon, and- and you  _ haven’t.  _ Please?”

“Oh, little bird…” Slowly, that hope pieced itself together. “No.” Goth looked  _ crushed,  _ and Negativity savored it with a gentle smile. “Come on now, hon. Go take your seat.”

“Yeah, baby brat, come sit with us.” Error called out to him, tone betraying his own persisting discomfort from the previous night. “We’re nicer than that workaholic.”

_ Error.  _ Negativity felt his smile widen. He didn’t fight it. Error was… well, he was many things to him; A tool, a toy… and a trophy, too. Regret didn’t come easily to him anymore but, sometimes, he thought that he just might have regretted not enjoying his time with the destroyer more. “Aw, come on  _ Ruru.  _ I’m not  _ trying  _ to be the bad guy here, ya know? But if I don’t work…”

“Yeah, yeah. We know what happens. Still, you could be less of an ass to the brat. You know he’s eager to fly and shit.”

“And he will! Just not today. Besides...” Making his way over to the table, Negativity leaned down to press a kiss to the other’s skull, whispering against his bone. “My wings  _ hurt.  _ It feels like someone plucked them right off my back.”

A darling flush colored tear stained cheeks. Despite his discomfort at the proximity, Error couldn’t help but react to the intimacy of the kiss.  _ Still so easily riled up. _

“Maybe you shouldn’t keep them out next time you coax everyone into your stupid bed.”

He grinned. “But if I do that, what will you hold onto next time I  _ coax  _ everyone into my bed?” And without Cree or Posi there to sense it, he let what would have been unfitting lust trickle out of a sturdy shield, filling his voice. “Unless you’d rather hold onto Cross instead? In that case, I’ll happily put Geno in your place~”  _ Again.  _

“Pervert,” Error growled, a slight waver shaking the word. Annoyance, discomfort… confusion. 

_ Ah, too much.  _ So he reigned himself in with a sweeter smile. “Sorry Ru,” he apologized, pretending to not react to the subtle signs of the other’s emotions. “I just… after yesterday, I thought you could use… I dunno. Some normalcy?”

“...Whatever,” the destroyer huffed, dismissing him in favor of turning his attention onto Paperjam. 

_ What a foolish name.  _ “So-”

“Reaps, stop being weird and just-  _ sit down.  _ I have your coffee right here.”

_ Disgusting. _ “Ah thank you!” Negativity sat himself close to Geno and sipped at the sludge.  _ Honestly, how in the worlds-  _ after a moment’s debate, he chugged the whole thing and tucked a grimace away the best he could. 

When he set his cup back onto the table with a clack that was just a little too loud, he caught Cross staring at him silently. Unfortunately, his shields were as fortified as ever, though he as “Reaper” pretended to not notice as he stacked some food upon his plate.  _ It really is just pancakes and fruit, isn’t it? And syrup...  _ A glance to Goth showed the little bird adding a horrendous amount of syrup to his pancakes. A peek at Geno saw the same thing.  _ Ugh… _ “How… sweet!” 

A little distracted, Geno glanced at him. “Huh?” 

“Oh, nothing. Just that our little bird takes after you so well!” 

Unbeknownst to the primordial, the guard narrowed his sockets subtly. 

Error rolled his eyes. “That’s what happens when ya have kids, bird brain. No, PJ, you gotta save some whipped cream for your idiot mother. Wherever the hell he is.” 

“I think he’s still out with Dream,” Cross murmured from his other side. 

“A shame they’re missing out on this meal. Breakfast  _ is _ the most important meal of the day, right?” he chirped, allowing himself a bit of childness as he prodded at the pancakes. If they were fresh, he would have been pleased. Frozen as they had been, however….  _ Disgusting, effortless…  _

Geno raised a brow at him. “Then… eat some…? Before work?” 

Stepping back into a playful person, Negativity smiled cheekily. “Feed me?” he pleaded, batting his eyes and adding a cheerful chirp at the end of the request.

Sure enough, the glitch’s tension eased just the slightest, a look of fond exasperation stealing his expression for itself. “You’re such an idiot…” and yet, Geno appeased him with a forkful of sugary, mediocre pancake. “There, I’m sure you can handle the rest all on your own.”

“I dunno, Gen… I think that I really like being treated like a king. I can just see myself on a throne, ya know? Regal, proud… being hand-fed delicious pancakes by you~”

“A king?” Cross repeated, uneasiness he kept hidden behind his barriers creeping into his gaze. “I, uh, can’t really see it, I guess. I mean, a king is… after everything…” he shot the others at the table an apologetic expression before adding, “I think you’re a much better person than the  _ king  _ we all know. You- you’re so much  _ more  _ than Negativity will ever be: A wonderful husband, and b-boyfriend, a great father… someone- something worthy of respect. And you don’t have to be a king to earn any of it, either.”

Negativity smiled, careful not to let any of his namesake bleed into the expression. Interestingly enough, it still made Cross’ hold tighten on his fork.  _ How impressive. I’ve only just let myself enjoy the freedom brought about Cree’s and that annoyance’s presence, and yet my traitorous guard has already caught on…  _ As interesting as that was, it  _ did  _ unfortunately mean that he was going to have to rein himself in. He wasn’t ready to be found out just yet.

So, he drops his gaze with a shy expression, whispering, “You… you give me too much credit, Criss-cross. I’m just…  _ trying.  _ Most of the time, I don’t even really do a good job…” at that, he shot discreet looks at Geno and Error, knowing the guard would catch them.  _ I’m trying to distract them, but I just keep making them more uncomfortable,  _ he tried to convey through sullen, guilty looks and a wavering smile. “If anything, I- I think  _ you’re  _ the one who really deserves some respect.”

Uncertainty, suspicion warring with doubt. Guilt. Negativity couldn’t read minds, but Cross served beneath him for many,  _ many  _ years. He had an inkling of what the other was thinking:  _ Am I just being paranoid? Did I let last night get to me? Is Reaper really just trying to help?  _

What most likely seemed like inappropriate, suspicious behavior to the others could easily be explained as the result of awkwardness and uncertainty following last night’s discussion. After discussing such heavy topics, wasn’t it reasonable for them to feel off-balanced, and for that to affect them in different ways? Error couldn’t maintain eye-contact, Geno kept regaining tension no matter how many times he relaxed, and Cross was on edge. If that was the case, then wasn’t their talk explanation enough as to why “Reaper” also seemed a little…  _ off? _

When the silence lingered, he dipped his head in what seemed to be self consciousness, his hood casting a shadow over his eyes. “...I just… I’m really thankful for you, Cross. Even after the way we treated you back…  _ there,  _ you still have nice things to say about us. About  _ me,  _ even though you and I… I’m just- I’m happy. That you left with us, I mean. And- and I… I want you to know that- after yesterday-” he took a shuddering breath, conveying nerves. “You’re  _ so  _ strong, Crossy. You- you gave yourself to  _ him—” _

_ “Swear it,” Cross demands, not a waver in his voice or a tremble shaking his hands even though Negativity  _ **_knows_ ** _ he’s afraid. “Swear it to me. If- if I do this, you don’t hunt him down. You- you won’t seek out anyone else to play this role, and you won’t drag Error back for it back, either.  _ **_Swear it,_ ** _ Nightmare.” _

_ He smiles, his lie masquerading as a reassuring truth. “I swear it.” _

_ Cross nods once, then steels himself. With those still, sure hands of his, he begins to remove his scarf. Even when he stands before him with nothing more than flesh to cover his bones, he still doesn’t show his fear. It’s exhilarating—arousing.  _

_ Negativity can’t wait to make him  _ **scream.**

“—to protect the person you….” he glanced at Error, then offered Cross a sheepish smile.  _ I’ll let you say those words to him,  _ is what the expression said. Different words left his mouth when he resumed speaking. “You’re admirable, and I… I want you...”

_ I want to make you regret your betrayal. I want you to find your happiness just so I can tear it away like I did all those years ago when I tore apart your world. I want you to hurt, and for the love you always desired to be the cause. _

“...I want you to know… that…”

He smiled nervously, his voice wavering. Inside, he was full of certainty. And vindication too, of course.

_ Look back on this moment later, and suffer. _

“I love you, Cross,” Negativity whispered, voicing the confession in place of the god who had yet to speak such sweet words.

And like a fool…

“O-oh…!” 

...Cross believed him, and smiled.


	48. OMG, Twinsies~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marigold naps and Merci is part worm.

Breakfast comes and goes, and with it morning. When noon rolls about, Cross prepares them all a simple lunch with a bright blush on his face, and an even brighter smile—one that’s stuck itself onto his expression since Reaper’s sweet words. Watching the guard practically prance about so obviously happy manages to lighten the tense mood from last night’s conversation but eventually, that heavy, familiar atmosphere of stale discomfort seeps back in when dinner passes and neither Ink nor Dream show.

_ They haven’t answered any of our messages, either…  _ Geno thinks, worry cocooned in his chest, steadily transforming into fear. What if something happened; went wrong? Sure, Ink and Dream were the most equipped to spot Negativity in a crowd, but what if they got distracted?  _ Or worse…? _

Goth’s laughter breaks him out of his spiraling concerns mere seconds before Reaper’s voice reaches him with a probing call of his name. “I’m fine,” he says to appease the god, tucking himself more comfortably against Reaper’s side. On the taller skeleton’s left, Cross sits with a pleased fluster poorly hidden behind his scarf.  _ Cute. _

“Yeah?” Reaper questions, and when Geno glances up he finds the god wearing a strange expression—something stuck between curiosity and concern. “Heh, does that mean you don’t need a hug? Cause, usually, I’d be  _ very  _ happy to hold you close, but my arms are a little full at the moment…” 

His eyelight dropped, landing on the tiny bundle of blankets that was the youngest son of the household. Admittedly, when Reaper asked to hold Marigold, Geno wanted to say no. Still, even with all his worry, he understood that it wasn’t fair to always hog the small child just to settle his own nerves, so he ultimately agreed. Of course, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t sit close, keeping an eye on the tiny, slumbering twin in Reaper’s gentle hold.  _ Still asleep… _

Geno tried to keep himself from worrying about that. Whatever kept Sci from being available for lessons this week had at least given the scientist enough of a break to answer one of his many calls, reassuring him that not every child behaved the same. Mar may have been sleepier than his twin, but… but it was fine. It was fine.

_ “I promise to give him another examination as soon as my workload here eases up. Has Goth given you any updates recently?” _

_ “No… He’s still insistent that Marigold feels funny, but….” _

_ “But there’s been no new claims, and no worrying symptoms to suggest that Goth’s statements are anything more than a child’s tall tales.” _

_ “I  _ **_know_ ** _ my son, Sci. Gothy wouldn’t lie about this, and even if there was a chance he would, Ink confirmed that he isn’t being dishonest. I- I believe him when he says there’s something wrong. Even a baby shouldn’t sleep as often as Mari does.” _

_ “...Look, I…”  _

_ At the pause, Geno frowned. “Sci? Hello?” _

_ “...Sorry, I’m just… really busy. But, Geno, I…” a muffled crash, followed by Sci’s own voice cursing out something foul. “I have to go. Just… try not to worry, okay? Marigold isn’t suffering.” _

_ “Isn’t suffering from wha-” A click as the call ended.  _

Still discomforted by his unfilling conversation with the scientist, Geno sighed and reached over to gently stroke Mar’s little cheek just once before turning his attention elsewhere.

Across the room, Error sat on a blanket of his own making that acted as a rug, Paperjam on his lap with a half completed dragon plush in hand. The two were working on it together, with Paperjam following their father’s directions closely. Seated a little ways off to the side with his current storybook closed next to him, Goth giggled and cheered on his baby sister, arms spread.

With a drooling grin and bright, swirling eyes, Merci kicked her feet, slapped her hands on the floor, and half-crawled, half-squirmed to her brother. “Pah!”

“C’mon, Merci!” Goth encouraged, sockets wide and eyelight starry. “Go faster! Come on!”

“Since when could our little girl crawl?” Reaper whined, pouting.

Geno sighed, admittedly amused by the god. “Reaps, you’re the first person she ever crawled to. You knew she was progressing. Right, M-E-R-C-I?” He called out, fingerspelling his daughter’s name.  _ We need to be better at doing more than just talking at them.  _ He was teaching himself and the others when they had a few moments to spare. Given Mar’s situation… 

Reaper’s pout grew. “I know, I know… it’s just, it seems like the last time I saw her, she was fresh out of the womb! But now she  _ crawls!” _

“You weren’t gone that long,” Error snorted, referring to the god’s trip to work.

The winged skeleton shrugged, huffing like a petulant child. “I was gone long enough to miss Merci growing!”

“Baby.”

That didn’t keep the elder skeleton from sulking though. Just a bit, until he returned his attention back onto Merci and Goth. “Come to me, Merci!” he crooned out. “Come to daddy!” 

Something kept Error from teasing the god about calling himself daddy. He wasn’t sure what or why. It was on the tips of his tongues, too.  _ “Are you sure Ink won’t whine about being ‘daddy’?” _ Or something like that. But he just… didn’t say anything, curiously watching Merci’s reaction. 

Interestingly… she didn’t seem to hear him. Or maybe it was that she was ignoring him? Do babies ignore others when they were still so young? Error couldn’t remember if PJ had done that to Ink or not. Amidst the stress of everything that happened… well, it would’ve been a funny story  _ now _ . But he couldn’t remember… he didn’t know if Merci ignoring Reaper was normal, not that anything involving the twins had ended up being normal... Regardless, she was still crawling towards Goth fairly slowly, though determinedly. 

Hurt sounding, Reaper repeated, “Merci! Daddy’s over  _ here _ , little one!” 

At the sound of her name spoken once again, Merci glanced over and took in the sight of Reaper with those wide, endearing eyes of hers. Then, she turned back to her eldest brother with a whine and continued forward, tiny limbs pushing and pulling at the floor to help her along. It wasn’t a crawl so much as it was a wriggling squirm, but she eventually made it to Goth who brightened considerably and leaned down for an excited hug.

“Okay, now you go to daddy, got it?” he instructed, apparently taking pity on his sulking father. With instruction from Geno, Goth had Merci repositioned so that she was facing the god pouting in their direction. “You can do it, Merci!” 

“Come on, sweetie,” Geno called, hoping to help encourage her.

Patting the floor as if to ensure it was still stable beneath her tiny form, Merci kicked her legs out behind herself and began the grueling journey. However, when Reaper shifted his hold on her twin to reach for her as she neared, Merci whined and came to halt. Suddenly fussy, her whining continued and she hesitated in place before closing the distance in order to pat at Geno’s legs, searching.

“Do you need a nap?” Ignoring his husband’s moping, Geno scooped their daughter up and cradled her close, softening when Merci fisted the material of his shirt in small, fragile hands. “I guess all that moving around tired you out.”

“I can hold her?” Reaper offered.

Cross was the one to interject, his tone apologetic. “I think you got your arms plenty full with Marigold. Besides, Merci… uh, she doesn’t seem like she…”

_ Wants you,  _ went unsaid as they watched Merci tug at Geno’s shirt. Though still uncomfortably tight against his ecto,, she managed to pull some of the material over her face like a blanket. When Geno, worried about her breathing, carefully tucked it away, Merci whimpered and turned her face to hide away in his hold the best she could.

“I guess she’s a little cranky now, too…” but even as he said it, Geno knew that wasn’t what was going on.  _ She’s acting strange. _

_ Something’s wrong. _ And it took  _ everything _ within himself to keep the thought right there. To not let it spiral out of control. Out of the corner of his melted eye, he watched Reaper’s expression. 

Though there wasn’t much of one to be found, except for that sightless gaze seeming to be pinned on their daughter. 


	49. I dunno, he's acting pretty sus...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geno saw Reaper vent.

Geno found himself far quieter for the rest of the day and into the night. Again, messages to their empath husband and boyfriend were sent and delivered, but they received no “read” notifications or messages back. The glitch couldn’t count how many times he wished the damned things would alert him if Ink and Dream’s phones were simply dead or what, but he _did_ know he was going to give them a gods-damned piece of his mind once they were home. 

Until then, he had decided to keep an eye on their deathly husband. To closer observe his interactions with their children. _This is better..._ he decided at one point. _If I just… just watch him. Because it- this is just my husband going stir-crazy. Just a little antsy. I’m… I’m not being paranoid, and I’m not locking myself and the children away, and this is my husband!_

But… just to be sure… 

He watched. 

The whole next day, Merci whined whenever she got too close to Reaper. Sometimes she’d get fussy when Error would reach for her- except he would snatch his hands back at the last second, and Geno would be witness to the swarm of glitches surrounding his fingers momentarily. But… she wasn’t reacting that way to _anyone_ else. 

Another thing he noticed was how Reaper barely put Marigold down at all. He did solely to get some “emergency reaping” done. Though he was back faster than Geno could relax or start to miss him.

It was… probably normal. Probably. Almost certainly? Most likely, Reaper just didn’t want to leave his family alone too long, though still ran out to ensure his job was still actually getting done. To avoid problems with the council. The thought of _those_ fuckers had Geno wringing his hands together as stress grew again. Dream versus Negativity for the throne, and he had no idea how many of the deities there were sided with Negativity. He didn’t even want to think about a world with **him** in place as the ruler. Whatever would happen at that point, the castle would probably be a paradise in return... But with Reaper himself… in truth, Geno couldn’t actually tell if he was justified in his sudden wariness, or simply paranoid. If it were the latter, then this wouldn’t be the first time that his own mind played tricks on him; fooling him into reading far too deeply into things. But… but if there was even the slightest possibility that he was _right?_ That something really was up? Then…

“Want me to give him a talkin’ to?” Error offered, arms crossed as he supervised Cross and the oldest children through a window. 

Like his brother, he was far from pleased by Ink and Dream’s absence, and his own paranoia had him twitchy. Though they weren’t twins, and certainly weren’t telepathic, they were usually on the same page in terms of that paranoia, nowadays. Whatever Geno was worried about, Error was likely worried about that and three other things. Thankfully, the guard was there to offer to play with the older brats while Error fought to get his itchy, twitching fingers to remain still. Not only would he keep them happy, but Cross would keep the children safe, too. Not that knowing that would stop Error from hovering, of course.

“He’s our husband, not some little kid that needs scolding because he misbehaved. And what is there to even say? It isn’t his fault that Merci is acting up.”

“You say that, but you don’t believe it, do you?”

No telepathy, no empathy, and yet still feeling the same way. Intuition, he supposed, though how funny that it always seemed to work for them. Geno fidgeted, toying with the collar of his shirt. “...No,” he admitted, “I don’t.”

“Then let me talk to him, glitchface.” Taking a few more moments to ensure that Cross and the older children really were good, Erro pushed himself off of the wall he had settled in against and straightened. “You can handle the twins by yourself?”

“Of course.” He was used to it, mostly. It helped that the others were there to help. _Ink and Dream…_ didn’t matter what’s going on with them, Geno planned to give them a _firm_ fucking talking to. Ground them. Make them sleep on the couch. That offered the glitch some level of comfort, that maybe wherever they were, when they came home, he really could just do that. He knew himself better than that though. He’d probably cry and not let them go for at least an hour or two. “Take care, Ru…” 

Waving away the concerns with a slightly shaking hand, Error stepped away and towards the front of the room where Reaper was- “Rereading the same damned parenting book ya got Goth, huh?” 

“Hm? Oh yes, I was just trying to remember when they start becoming teenagers...” 

Sure, it was probably meant to be more humorous. Reaper was just referencing Merci’s squirming, but knows exactly when they become teens. It’s… literally in the name. He’s just joking around, even though he still looks totally butthurt from earlier. 

Error wasn’t a fucking empath. And it wasn’t fucking funny. 

But still, he snorted, rolled his eyes and grumbled, “When the fuck ya think they turn into teenagers, dumbass?” 

“Fair enough,” Reaper smiled easily and set the book aside, gazing up at Error. “Did Gen kick ya out of the kitchen too?” 

“You wouldn’t stop hovering over him. I left willingly.” 

“Yes…” Reaper’s gaze seemed to grow heavy for a moment. 

“What? Got something on my face?” Error asked, not willing to subject himself to any scrutiny at the moment. He didn’t need people to point out the excessive glitches swarming his form, or any obvious signs of his shitty current state. _Fucking pathetic, being this worked up when Ink and Dream are probably just fucking in some corner of the world._

Reaper chuckled. “You mean aside from your usual tears? Nah. It _is_ those I’m looking at, though. I just…” 

“...You just _what?”_

“You’ll get mad at me if I tell you,” Reaper admitted.

Sockets narrowing, Error crossed his arms and stood tall. Already, he didn’t like where this was going. “I want to know anyways.”

“Ru-”

“Tell me!” He demanded, knowing that being left in the dark would just annoy him more even if he was probably going to regret asking to hear whatever the hell it was that Reaper had to say.

With a sigh, Reaper shrugged and shared his thoughts. “I just… can’t help but think that… that you and Geno look like brothers now.”

“We _are_ brothers, birdbrain.” 

The god shook his head. “I mean, you two look like… _actual_ brothers.” To better explain what he was trying to convey, Reaper pressed a pointer finger right beneath each of his empty sockets. With a slow, deliberate motion, he drew his phalanges down his face as if tracing the path that his tears would have taken had he been crying. “You both have… marks now, I guess. And glitches. Geno may not share your coloring, but… you both look like you’re stuck crying eternal tears now; you with your magic, and Gen with his scars. It’s… cute, in a way.”

_Cute._ The word had anger and disgust tangling together in the pit of his stomach, leaving him nauseous. While he couldn’t explain why his tears and magic were so intertwined, Error didn’t like the way that Reaper brushed it off as… _cute._ And he certainly didn’t like that word being used in regards to Geno’s fucking _scars._

“You better not repeat that bullshit _anywhere_ near him, Reaps. You think we look alike now? _That was the fucking point!_ Killer fucking _carved_ into Geno’s face because he wanted to be a cruel little shit, and nothing about that is _cute.”_

Reaper smiled slightly, wincing in what was probably an apology, not that Error cared in that moment. “I… I know that, Ru-” 

“In fact, don’t fucking repeat that _ever again._ Do you understand, Reaper?” he hissed. 

“Y-Yeah! Yes, Ru, I understand!” 

Scowling now, Error glared at him. “Good.” 

And yet, _cute_ kept lingering in his mind. His magic had been described as lethal, terrifying, _unique_ , maybe. But cute? Tears were not cute. _His_ tears were not cute. And his brother’s scars were absolutely not fucking cute. 

_Distraction. I need a damned distraction._ Ink was good at those, the horny bastard. Whether it was dragging Error off to the bedroom or shower for some good, impromptu and _filthy_ sex, or tugging him into his studio so the artist could talk his nonexistent ears off for the next several hours about how _this_ paint with _that_ paper was just _so satisfying!_

_Where is that fucker now…?_

Reaper studied Error’s face for a little longer. “Is everything okay?” 

“Everything’s fucking _fine_ , Reaps.” 

The lie lingered between them before Error sighed. 

“I’m… worried. Ink used ta just… wander off and forget, when he was soulless. But he stopped doing that when he… regained his soul, I guess. But now- fuck, it ain’t even been a full second day and he’s still not here. It’s weird. And Dream ain’t here either? I don’t like it.”

“I don’t think that Dream and Ink really got to… _catch up_ these last few months. They probably just got caught up in each other, Ru.”

“You’re not worried?” Error questioned, scowling. “That they’re not answering their phones? That they haven’t so much as called or stopped by? You’re not worried even though we’ve had _Nightmare_ hanging over all of our damn heads?”

Realizing his mistake, the god dipped his head apologetically. “It isn’t that I’m not concerned, it’s just… Surely if Negativity had them, he would have gloated about it by now, right?”

“That’s shitty reasoning, Reaper.”

And yet, the other, taller skeleton could _see_ Error easing up. Just a bit, but there was a little less tension in his posture now. He smiled. “Look, Ru, time… it can pass a lot differently for a god, let alone a primordial. I’m sure that they don’t mean to worry us all, but… Dream and Ink are probably just fooling around, and forgot about us.”

“They wouldn’t just _forget!”_ Error hissed.

But when Reaper met his eyes again, that voidless gaze was serious. “Wouldn’t they? Ink and Dream… they have _history,_ Ru. They’ve known each other for centuries even if they couldn’t remember that until just a few months ago. And- and now we _all_ know that Ink sired a son with Dream. We’re all a family, yeah, but… those who were a family _first,_ and… well, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were lost in their own little world right now. If they’re not having sex, then I bet they’re looking for their son.”

“Th-they would- would still check in…” the destroyer insisted, though his wavering voice betrayed him, taking away from his certainty. 

Reaper smiled sadly. “We’ve all seen Ink lose himself to his art, and Dream dive into work without moving for hours. Is it really so hard to imagine them forgetting us, just for a bit?”

Still, Error tried to cling to his faith in his husbands. “They wouldn’t.”

“Oh, Ru…” the god murmured, sympathetic. “I wish you really believed that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! We hope you enjoyed this... sweet... treat!


	50. Bye Bye Bits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno's ecto finally goes away, so of course everything will be so much better now-

As Geno expected, it took only another two days before his ecto finally fell away, very much to Merci’s… rather unexpected disappointment. Faced with the change, she cried for nearly two hours after she realized Geno’s ecto was in fact gone. That there were no more squishy bits to cushion her when she snuggled with her mother seemed to act as the little skeleton’s first true experience with betrayal, and she did well to inform them of her greater displeasure and even greater disappointment.. 

Well, disappointed was… probably the wrong word for it. But after Geno’s pounding headache from the wailing, he didn’t want to even  _ try _ thinking of a different word. No matter what you called it, Merci was upset. She wasn’t alone in that regard, either.

The only person more displeased than her was  _ Reaper. _

It wasn’t a secret that the god was… rather  _ appreciative  _ of Geno’s form. While he himself had a tendency to find a few of his  _ extra _ curves unflattering, Reaper reassured him time and time again that he liked Geno’s body; extra squishy bits included. Hell, it was the god’s fault that their shared closet was such an… embarrassment, for a lack of better words. Insistent on getting Geno to view himself positively, Reaper had pushed for him to explore his own sexuality and that… well, it resulted in lingerie. A  _ lot  _ of lingerie that Geno could barely stomach looking at since their return, though his collection used to be something he did find enjoyment in.

Thankfully, his first husband  _ was  _ understanding, and didn’t push him to take up his old, intimate style beneath his clothing. On a good day, Geno could barely tolerate himself as he was. He didn’t want to even imagine how wrapping himself up like- like some- some  _ gift  _ would feel like. He didn’t want to feel like an offering, or a pretty little  _ whore _ , even if the others wouldn’t view him that way _.  _ But while Reaper’s attraction for him hadn’t disappeared, the god didn’t complain about whatever layers he chose to hide beneath, and what he did or did not wear behind his fabric shields. At least, he  _ hadn’t  _ done so until Geno greeted him with a bright smile and no concealed curves to be seen.

_ I… I knew he’d pout a bit for show, but…  _ the god’s disappointment was palpable. It lingered in those lightless eyes and kept twisting Reaper’s smiles into pouts. Worse, it crept it’s way into the other, taller skeleton’s voice as well, coating every sentence with a petulant whine that annoyed Geno as much as it discomforted him.  _...I thought he’d be happy for me… _

Clearly, he thought wrong.

As if reading his mind, Reaper sighed. “I’m not unhappy about your situation, Gen. I… I know your reasons for being so happy your ecto is gone, and- and I support you! Of course I do! It’s just… I dunno. It hurts to see you so insistent on hiding something you used to flaunt.”

“At your insistence,” he mumbled.

Reaper chuckled a bit. “Sometimes, yeah, but… you loved it, after a while. All those little… underthings. The special outfits, the…  _ very  _ special outfits…. You liked how they made you feel.”

He had, once. Before the castle.  _ I wore lace the day they dragged me to that hellhole.  _

_ No way am I anywhere ready to wear it.  _

_ Not yet… and maybe not ever.  _ And as much as he didn’t want to “be afraid of lace”, he knew he needed to take his own damned time getting over it. And that it wasn’t the  _ lace _ but what happened- 

“I don’t know…” the god continued. “I just thought…” 

“That I needed time?” even Geno winced at the bite in his voice. But he was right. He  _ knew  _ he was. So, he didn’t apologize. As much as he loved Reaper—and that as a lot!—Geno just… he needed some fucking time. To himself. But not… alone. Too many memories of the black room wouldn’t allow him to stay alone too long. Sometimes, even a restroom break was both perfect and too much. 

The frown could be heard in his voice, so much so that Geno needn’t have glanced to check it was there. “Geno…” stars above, he even  _ sounded  _ more disappointed. 

It put the glitch on edge. “Just… drop it, Reaps.” He used the nickname to try and soften the blow. “I’ll bring it back when I feel more comfortable. For now, deal with it. Also, where the hell are Dream and Ink?”

Thankfully, Reaper accepted the topic change with a smile, and a shrug. “Out being kinky?” he suggested with a chuckle. They were on day two of the two of them no-call, no-show. Not that their home was a workplace, but… the radio silence was starting to put even  _ Cross _ visibly on edge. 

Personally, Geno thought the joke was distasteful given… well,  _ everything.  _ He didn’t expect his husbands to refrain from sex of course, but the fact that Reaper was  _ still  _ willing to make references to sex when he  _ knew  _ Geno was uncomfortable was… maybe not necessarily  _ rude,  _ but- but inconsiderate. Or maybe Geno was overreacting? Maybe- maybe he was just being… sensitive.  _ Too _ sensitive. Reaper showed affection through teasing and flirtation. He was- he was just being himself, and here Geno was treating him poorly just because he wanted… what? Special treatment? To be taken into consideration? That last thing was valid, yeah, but… maybe he was being too harsh? Cold? Maybe… maybe  _ Geno  _ was the one being rude, and he was just demonizing the same behavior he fell in love with…?

Uncertain, Geno shifted and found himself reconsidering his own recent behavior. He picked out all the moments where his interactions with Reaper were just a little too chilly. For a moment, he felt…  _ awful.  _

And then, an arm slid around his waist and a sigh tickled his neck, and Geno decided that he was more than justified at being snappy when Reaper just wouldn’t- “Can you get  _ off  _ of m-”

“Geno.”

At that simple utter of his name, the glitch froze. Reaper wasn’t incapable of being serious, but that tone was- it was  _ too  _ calm, lacking any of the gentleness the god often spoke with to lessen any unintentional reactions. It was- it sounded like-

When he looked up, Geno expected to see green in place of his husband’s voids. That wasn’t the case, thankfully. “Reaps, I’m sorry, I just-” He blinked, and found his view just a little different. Somehow, the voids of the god’s eyes were brighter. Still full of deep shadow, but-

“Geno,” Reaper murmured, and the way his quiet voice seemed so loud reminded Geno all too well of the fact that they were alone at the moment, tucked away in their room. Error was handling the twins with Cross to give him a break he didn’t ask for, and Spright was helping the children with their homework. Right then, it was just him and Reaper. “Genocide…”

Behind Reaper, something could be seen moving. The door slid shut, then clicked with the damning sound of the lock twisting into place. Simultaneously, something slithered around his leg.

“Sweet little Genocide.”

Frozen as he was, Geno did nothing as the god closed the distance between them with a kiss.  _ This… this isn’t happening…  _ he thought, feeling detached from the situation. Distantly, he felt a tongue slither it’s way into his mouth, and a hand on his hip. Whatever was around his leg was creeping higher, into the leg of his shorts.  _ This isn’t- it isn’t real. It’s- _

There was something stiff against him. When Reaper shifted and it pressed against him, the god groaned and- and began to—

_ No.  _

With a scream, Geno pushed against Reaper with all his might, tripping backwards and-

_ Thud.  _

“Geno?” Reaper called out, worried.

The door slammed open. “Geno?!” Error echoed, storming inside with twitching fingers dripping string. “What- what the fuck was  _ that?!” _

“I don’t know!” Reaper cried, distress clear in his expression and tone as he peered over the bed, staring down at Geno’s fallen form. When he reached out for him and the glitch flinched, he looked wounded. “We- we were just- we were napping, and all of a sudden Gen was screaming and trying to- I don’t know? Get out of bed? He just…  _ fell.”  _ Softer, meant only for Error and the concerned guard in the doorway, Reaper whispered, “I think he had a nightmare about…”

_ A nightmare?  _ Trembling on the floor, Geno stared up at the face of his husband with terror in his soul. He didn’t feel groggy with sleep, or sluggish. He felt wide awake in a horrible way.  _ But… but the door wasn’t locked…  _ Error would have had to break through if that were the case, but he simply opened it. “I… I-” 

“Gen…” Reaper whispered, hesitating before reaching for him again. “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. It was just a bad dream.”

_ Just… just a bad dream… _

Shakily, he reached up for the god’s hand. 

Reaper smiled in relief, accepting-

_ “Ack!”  _

“Gen-!”

“The fuck-!”

Ignoring everything around him, Geno tugged the other skeleton off the bed and forced him up and around, slamming the so-called god against the floor with a snarl.

**“W-where’s my h u s b a n d?”** he demanded, terror in his soul. “What did you do to him, you bastard?!  _ What did you do to  _ **_R e a p e r?!”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	51. A Quick Drink Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we cut back to Ink and Dream for a refreshing Drink break.

Eventually, the white space around them acting as a canvas for their memories to bleed across vanished, and the two primordials found themself standing out in the open, before a-

Dream couldn’t help it. He laughed, the sound bitter.  _ An apple tree…  _ Turning away from the perfectly ripened fruit hanging over their heads, he wiped away the last of his tears and tried to calm his racing mind, and heart.  _ I… I can’t believe…  _ his gaze landed on a rotting apple on the ground, and he shuttered. “Cree?”

“Ink,” the other primordial requested, his own voice weary. “I… hearing you call me Cree will always spark warmth in my chest, but… Negativity took that name, and twisted it. He made it into something that hurts the people we love.” 

_ Error, Geno… _

... _ And maybe even Cree— _ **_Ink_ ** _ himself,  _ Dream thought. Having what was once an endearing nickname turned into a weapon had to hurt. “If that’s what you want…?”

“Oh,  _ now  _ you care what I want?” Ink grumbled, wincing soon after with a sigh. “...I’m sorry. I just… you put me in a hard place, Pos.”

“Dream.” At the look shot his way, the golden eyed skeleton offered a hesitant smile. “I know now… that  _ Dream  _ was never intentional, but… what you did? Even if it was a mistake, it still… it gave me the chance to grow up; to mature in a way that I never quite managed as Positivity. I know that, realistically, we’re the same person, but… when I think back to who I was, I do see a lot of my faults—faults that I feel the experiences I gained throughout the last few centuries allowed me to fix. And… and Positivity, Posi…  _ Posipaws…  _ those are the names of a lonely man. I’m not lonely anymore, Ink, and… unintentional or not, you sacrificed so much of yourself to make that happen.”

“Me? What about- what about  _ you,  _ Dream?” There was still anger at the way the guardian forced himself into his memories, but there was guilt too. “You had a  _ son.” _

“We  _ have _ a son,” Dream corrected, “and… and he’s out there, Ink. Reaper- he  _ saw  _ him, and- and I’m going to find him.” Looking around, the golden eyed skeleton smiled faintly, stepping away from the orchard and towards the direction where the faint sound of rushing water could be heard. He wasn’t sure if it was him or the artist who brought them here, but he knew where they were. “...I’m going to find our baby, Ink. And-” his voice wavered, but determination kept a smile on his face. “And he’s finally going to meet you. Heh, he always used to ask, you know? Wanted to know all about you, to meet his daddy…. I won’t let him grow up without you any longer, and I certainly won’t let him grow up lost and- and alone. I- I’ll find him for sure. And once I do, one he’s safe, Negativity better  **run.** ”

Anger.

Betrayal.

Spite.

_ Guilt. _

Resolve.

A hand slid around his own, fingers lacing with Dream’s. “...I’ll help you,” Ink whispered. 

It wasn’t much, but the both of them could feel a sense of… peace within themselves. A feeling that they could make it through this. That they  _ will _ make it through, and they’ll be happier for it. They’ll have their husbands and kids- 

Oh.

_ Oh no. _

“Shit,” Ink murmured, pulling his phone out. “The others.” 

Dream froze and stared up at him. “They- we didn’t tell them- oh gods, they’re probably-” 

“My phone’s dead,” Ink sighed after trying the buttons several times. 

“Mine too,” Dream murmured, checking on his own cell. Nothing. 

They were exhausted though. How long had it been? An hour? A week? Hopefully no more than a single day, but neither was all that hopeful for such an outcome.  _ We haven’t had the best luck lately… _

“Oh…  _ shit.” _ At Ink’s questing look, the shorter of the primordials sighed. “Merci. We’ve been keeping her abilities in check, remember? If we’ve been gone too long…”

“...Then her empathy is probably starting to act up,” Ink finished with a wince.  _ Geno is going to have my head... _ “Okay, let’s just go home and apologize like our lives depend on it, yeah?” 

The half-attempt at humor had Dream smiling a little and nodding. “Yeah…” though it was likely that their lives  _ did  _ depend on it. Given Error’s temper…  _ We’re going to have to get on our knees and grovel. _

“Oh, and Dream?” 

The smaller met Ink’s gaze, almost recoiling at the intense reds and oranges in the other’s symbols—a silent warning. “Next time you want to see my past? Just  _ ask. _ I won’t guarantee anything, but… ya know. Communication. ‘Supposed to be better than-” 

Uncomfortably, the guardian nodded and murmured another apology. One that Ink didn’t respond to, not that he really expected him to. Dream… couldn’t say with full honesty that he regretted his actions, but if he had the choice to go back and change how he went about everything, he would do so in a heartbeat.  _ This wasn’t how I wanted all this to go…  _ but he had hope that they would recover from his lapse in judgement. At the very least, Ink didn’t seem too angry with him anymore. Well, no more than Dream had ever been with him after witnessing the worst of the artist’s stunts. Still…

“I really am sorry, Ink.”

“...I know,” the older primordial sighed. “And… and I get it, Dreamboat. I do. You were right about us needing to talk, I just…”

“Deserved to have a choice in the matter where I forced you into it.”

Ink shrugged, but didn’t disagree. “We’ll just… do better next time.” Squeezing Dream’s hand, he added, “But… while I am upset, I… I can at least try and understand where you were coming from. And I’m not so upset that I want a divorce, so… smile, Dreamboat. Something like this isn’t going to break us.” 

Relieved, Dream smiled genuinely and gripped Ink’s hand tighter. Together, they stepped through the portal they made and towards the house. Immediately, they could see Cross’ colors with the children, though everyone else was up in Dream’s and Reaper’s room. And judging by the spiking emotions between Error and Geno, Reaper- 

Ink tore himself from Dream and  _ bolted. _

_ “Geno!”  _

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [My Shattered Soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23913280) by [StarGamerxox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarGamerxox/pseuds/StarGamerxox)




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